Beauty and the Beast: A retelling
by TheScarlettSmiles
Summary: Belle is a woman desiring more than whats planned for her. When kept in a majestic castle she falls for a beast... but also for the man that visits her at midnight. When the truth is reveled about the man, will the Beauty forgive the Beast? A retelling of the Disney version and the actual fairytale Rated:M for steaminess and future chapters. Reviews are appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note(:P) Ok, it has taken me FOREVER to update this baby! Well, guess what now I have! Wahooo! Unfortunately, what I've updated is the editing of chapter 1, not an actual additional chapter (please don't hate me I swear I'll have it up soon). It was more or less an accident when I put the rough draft of Beauty and the Beast:A retelling up to the public, I should have waited, but I got all excited and couldnt wait to share. Anywho, this is what chapter 1 was supposed to look like, so if you've read the other version, share your opinions with me in the reviews on which you liked better, and if you have not read the previous version just tune me in to your thoughts on this version. Please disregard any horrible grammer mistakes you see along the way (although if it's something huge, such as a name, do tell me in the comments)**

**I do not own any of these characters, they are owned by the folks that dealt with the Disney movie, so DO NOT sue me _please_. ..**

**Happy Reading!**

**P.S. This WILL have some mature rated material in it at one point or another, so if you have no desire for that please don't be hatin' and if you're to young, don't be readin**

* * *

Chapter 1

Belle ran down the dirt path that leads from her and her father's house to the village outskirts. The wind picked up tendrils of her hair making the long dark strands dance in the wind. The cool autumn air nipped at her cheeks as she gingerly jumped over piles of leaves. She was so happy it was fall—it was her favorite season along with the cool beauty of winter. She had mused often over her choice of seasons, because the seasons she loved everyone else disliked and dreaded in the little village. Her father had once told her that she sympathized with the seasons and that she had always liked and cared for the things that everyone else found different or unpleasing. He said it was only natural that she cares for the seasons that didn't receive as much love.

She slowed herself down as she entered the village and plunged into the throngs of people. Her happiness over the weather quickly diminished though as she took in the demeanor of the villagers. She controlled herself from sighing out loud. Her and her father have been living in town for nearly nine months, she thought the villagers would have accepted her by now. She knew that it was not necessarily her personally that bothered them. It was the simple fact that she was new in town. Roughly three months ago, the attention had been drawn from Belle and her father when a family of four moved into the vicinity. Belle had had the opportunity to be the one observing the newcomers not the other way around. The family had only managed to last a fortnight before they moved being unable to handle the glares and comments that the natives made. Belle had felt relief with the arrival of new people in town, the attention had finally been off of her and she had managed to mingle and blend in. But, as soon as the family left, Belle had once again become the talk of the town.

The glares that were cast her way made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up, people talked and some even moved out of her way as if not to accidentally be associated with her. A mother and a child were walking ahead of her and the child turned to stare and even pointed a chubby finger at Belle. Belle smiled at the boy, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but the mother turned and saw him pointing and when she realized it was at Belle, her mouth hardened and she grabbed her son by the arm tugging him into the crowd. Belle grimaced—even children were trained to notice that she didn't belong.

She continued to weave through the crowd clutching her small book to her chest like a shield. Even though the population of the town was small the town itself was even smaller and the people were packed into it, so the streets were constantly crowded. Belle was bumped into, ran into, pushed and shoved, she was pretty sure that a lot of it wasn't on accident either. She held her side where a particularly sharp elbow had jabbed her and she made her way to a clearing. She stood in the clearing for a bit, warring with herself on whether she should plunge back in or try to find a less painful, faster way to reach the bookstore on the other side of town.

As she was deliberating, she saw the baker across the street overtop all the bobbing heads. He was waving his arms madly and he was staring straight at her. He was smiling broadly and he even raised a loaf of bread into the air to grab her attention. She smiled slowly and tentatively at his show and she slowly raised her hand and waved back, pushing her hair out of her face as she did so.

People stopped and stared as if wondering why the baker was being nice to her. It was the first public display of affection she had gotten from anyone in this town, other than Mr. Fehr, the owner of the bookstore.

"Bonjour, Belle!" He yelled over the herd of people, before giving a final wave and going back to stocking his bread cart. Belle was so happy at this simple hello that she laughed, her happiness filling the people around her with happiness too, whether they wanted it or not.

Belle felt like she had just climbed mountains or had plunged through a dangerous forest and survived. She was still smiling, but then she remembered that she had to get home in time for lunch. At this rate and the slow pace of the crowd she would never make it. She had to find a faster route.

The town was made up of two rows of buildings, houses and shops that faced each other and straight down the center was the main road. The sides of the road were where the people walked and weaved around each other and then the middle of the road was left clear for wagons and carts that were passing through. It was no doubt in Belle's mind that the wagon would be faster than simply walking. There was no way though that she had access to the wagons. She had no money with her to charge a ride.

But…it looked promising. With one quick look around she saw she was in front of the wig shop and there was a covered carriage parked in front, loaded and ready to go, the driver was just climbing up to his seat. Belle contemplated her choice, biting her lip in consternation, did she want to travel safely and slowly or did she want to risk it and hitch a ride?

She _did _have to make it home before lunch.

With that thought, she made her decision. She lunged at the carriage, hoping to catch the driver before he was fully in his seat. She hoped to ask for free ride, but, alas, she was too slow and driver was already perched and grabbing for the leather reins. As the carriage jolted, she didn't even think about her choice, she leaped. Her fingers grasped the siding of the carriage hauling herself up and keeping her balanced, making sure she didn't fall off. Her feet were neatly tucked beside the trunk that rattled on the back of the carriage. She realized she was in no danger of falling so she held on with only one hand. It was exhilarating! She threw her other arm out letting the brunt of the wind hit her. Her hair flew wildly about and her dress danced around her ankles, baring the dainty slippers that covered her feet.

It was an exhilarating feeling, definitely the most exciting thing that had happened to her in the drool town. Judging by the stunned faces that flashed by she got the impression that this was the most exciting thing they've seen in a while. They'd likely never seen, a woman particularly, riding on the _back _of the carriage. Oh, they pointed and shouted and the old driver looked around curiously, wondering why they were noticing his carriage. Belle stayed silent and ducked down so she wouldn't be noticed by him.

She could have stayed on the horse-drawn carriage forever, but they soon reached the area that the bookstore was in and she had to get off. She pondered for a bit, wondering how to make it down safely, but she soon realized it was futile. There was only one way she could get down without hurting herself and that was when the carriage stopped. With no other choice she opened her mouth to alert the driver of her presence, so he would stop. But, before she could say anything, a man in the crowd yelled out louder than anyone else and gave her presence away to the driver. The withered old man turned around and saw Belle's head peeking over the ceiling of the carriage. Belle saw his eyes widen, before the carriage came to a careening halt. The driver was yelling out words that burned her ears and made her blush heat her cheeks.

Belle jumped off quickly and took off towards the bookstore, the old man yelling behind her. Thankfully she managed to escape into the safety of the crowd that had gathered and she pushed her way through to the bookstore.

Now, leaning against the door of the bookstore she breathed in and out, grinning madly and laughing. How exciting! She was laughing at the fact that the town probably viewed her as a fugitive of sort now. So, the baker's kind act had been wiped from their minds. They would remember the bad things, not the good.

She calmed herself enough, so that Mr. Fehr wouldn't think she was completely insane for laughing deliriously. She walked a few more steps into the small shop, letting the smell of old books cloud her senses. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, the scent calming her. She ran the tips of her fingers over stacks of books that were taller than her and over shelves piled with old works that hadn't been looked at in years. She loved it in places like this. Places where peace could so easily be found by diving into a book.

She traveled the short distance to the back of the store where Mr. Fehr was dozing, his snores filling the store and making her ears ring. She giggled softly and walked closer, she placed the book she had brought back on the table, where he could find it, being careful she didn't want to wake him.

Then, she walked away a bit looking for anything that interested her. She had gathered a couple in her hands and was prepared to leave, knowing that Mr. Fehr wouldn't mind her taking them. It was a system that they had made almost upon her arrival to town. She at first had been buying the books, but she didn't have the funds to keep up her reading habits and when Mr. Fehr realized this he began lending them to her with a trust that surprised yet pleased Belle.

One of the books in her hands was wobbling in the crook of her arm and before she could catch it, it tumbled to the floor, waking Mr. Fehr. He jumped and clutched his chest a bit. He looked around frantically before settling back after seeing Belle.

"Oh, Belle! My, you gave me a fright!"

"Sorry, Mr. Fehr, the book slipped faster than I could grab it."

"That's alright. I'm glad you woke me, I shouldn't be sleeping on the job." He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, when he replaced the thick glass his eyes focused on the book that she had laid on the counter. "Belle, what? Finished, already? Bah, I shouldn't be surprised," he smiled fondly.

"Oh, I just couldn't put it down. It was a lovely book, thank you for recommending it." She then held up the stack of books that she was clutching, "I picked these out while you were, um… working."

He humphed, "I wish that could be considered work." He gestured to the books, "anything good in there?"

She grinned and set them on the counter, holding the top one up proudly, "Yes, very good."

"That one? But you've read it twice!"

"Yes, I love it! Daring sword fights, a prince in disguise, and…romance. It's the perfect book." She looked at it fondly.

Mr. Fehr smiled. "Well, if you like it so much it's yours," he cut off her stunned refusal with, "I insist."

She clutched the book close to her chest, "Thank you, thank you very much."

They continued to talk about the other books that she had picked out. Discussing plots, actions, and the symbols in each, Mr. Fehr knew that Belle was just itching to get home to read her new books, so he hurried the conversation along and said his goodbye. Belle waved as she left with her treasures.

As she was walking outside, she noticed three middle-aged women with their noses pressed up against the glass. They quickly scrambled to the wooden bench that was next to them, trying to sit in time, as if she wouldn't notice. The women talked and whispered as if they thought Belle didn't have ears.

"What a poor unfortunate girl…"

"So Beautiful, yet strange…"

"She's mental, that one…"

"That incident with the carriage…"

Belle didn't care to hear any more of their talk. She turned up her nose as haughtily as she could when deeply embarrassed, and turned on a heel. She thought of the comments she had overheard and even more than that the overall disrespect that the women had shown her. She tried to quell the angry urge to stomp over to them and give them a piece of her mind. They were just so—

Belle had to calm down, she couldn't get mad like this. To calm herself down she opened up her favorite book. Not caring that she was standing in the middle of the street with people all around her. She opened to the prologue and began reading and she even started walking. She walked automatically, not even watching where she was going. The fantasy soon sucked her in and she forgot all about the women. After a few moments she looked up to actually look for a place to sit down. She was in the central part of town and a large fountain dominated the middle of the square. She hurried over and sat on the cool gray stone and set the other books beside her and reopened the one she had been reading. Then, she threw herself wholeheartedly into a fantasy that she wished was real.

* * *

He smoothed a hand down the smoothness of his jaw, feeling the stubble that was already emerging despite his shave that morning. He watched the streets for any sign of his men or Belle. A muscle in his cheek ticked threateningly at the thought of Belle and a trace of anger washed over him.

Belle's stunt with the carriage had brought to much attention to her. It couldn't happen again, he didn't want to become known as the man whose wife once rode on the back of a carriage like a madwoman. She was quite beautiful, but clearly lacking in the mind. Oh, she wasn't his wife yet, but she would be, and she should be making a good feminine example for the rest of the town to look up too. He just had to be… patient. It had been nine months since they had first met and Gaston was quickly running out of patience, she had avoided him at every turn. He had tried giving her space, letting her come to him, like the majority of women did. But, she hadn't—not once. He was done waiting. Belle had pushed him over the edge and he was going to take matters into his own hands.

Gaston sighed and shifted, _when was she going to come out of that damn bookstore?_ He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the building behind him. He had men from the pub located in different places around the town, so that Belle wouldn't get through without him being alerted. He had a brief glimpse of doubt, was she really worth all the trouble she was causing for him? But, he shoved that thought out of his mind. She was the most beautiful this town had to offer and he would have nothing less than the best. So, she was his whether she wanted it or not. He had no doubt that he could persuade her. Whether he persuaded her with or without her consent was completely up to her.

He stood lost in thought as he waited for her. Gaston gritted his teeth, he didn't like this waiting on someone, he had never had to do it before, he always got what he wanted, when he wanted it and he wanted Belle—badly. He was tired of local whores and the flirtatious women that desired marriage that were constantly following him around. As much as Belle's ignorance of him enraged him, it intrigued him more than anything, because no woman had ever ignored him before.

He raised a stark black brow at the sight of Harry running towards him through the throng of people, he seemed out of breath and excited. Gaston felt a bit of disgust at the sight of the man, he had dirt and grime all over his jacket and boots, and he had the horrible feeling that if Harry got that much closer, his nose was going to be assaulted by the smell.

"Sir, we've spotted her outside the bookstore! She's now sitting on the fountain in town."

"About time," Gaston said to himself loudly, he pushed himself off the wall. He hefted up the skins of his kills that had been beside him, throwing the dense pelts over his shoulder and picking up his heavy rifle with his other hand. He started off in the direction of the fountain, making sure to give the reeking Harry a wide breadth. "What is she doing at the fountain?" he asked, he felt a bit pleased at the thought that she was just taking in the beauty of the fountain and he even smiled a bit. Delicate like a woman should be, his woman. But, the pleased feeling was soon dashed and a scowl replaced it when he heard Harry's answer.

"Uh… she was readin', sir."

Gaston clenched his fists and he almost heard his riffle crack. Her and those damn books. They weren't made to be read by fine women like her, yet she persisted with it, instead of focusing on more important issues like him. He snorted at himself, he was jealous of some damn books. He calmed himself a bit with the thought that once she was finally his, books would no longer exist in her world.

He continued walking at a fast pace, the people just moved out of his way. Men with fear in their eyes and women with simpering desire. He eventually came to the central part of town and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Belle. He felt Harry run into his back, because he had been following so close, but he ignored the stuttered apologies. Without even looking at the ripe Harry he shoved the skins into his arms with the order to take them to the pub, where all of his hunting victories went. His focus was then on Belle.

All other thoughts besides making her his left his mind. She was beautiful and while she was sitting there reading her senseless books, she paid him no heed and he could pursue her body as much as he desired. He took advantage of the opportunity and stared unabashedly, approaching her slowly so not to alert of her of the impending danger. He would treat her as he treated the bashful does in the forest. She wouldn't have time to run by the time he reached her.

Her brown hair was tied back with a pleasant blue ribbon, and the soft waves danced in the breeze. He longed to touch the strands and see if they were as silky as they looked. His eyes traveled down the column of her exposed throat, the porcelain skin begging for his lips. She had on a long-sleeved light blue dress with white accents. It was a thick dress, but did nothing to cover or hide the fact that she had curves. Her breasts were large, large enough for him to cup in his hands. This was no small feat, because his hands were as large as the rest of him.

Her waist dipped in, but then flared out to wider hips. As he stalked her sitting there, he briefly wondered if her thighs were as soft and plush as the rest of her. He fully planned on finding out.

Gaston looked up from her briefly and realized people were staring at the two of them, he had gotten roughly ten feet away from her before he had stopped. But, as he looked into the eyes of the people that were blatantly staring, they weren't staring at them he realized. But, _her. _Her looks demanded attention wherever she went.

The women were staring at Belle with a bit jealousy. The men were looking appreciatively at her, he saw the stares that lingered and tried to control the bit of possessiveness that ran through him, she was his, they had no right to gawk—that was his pleasure.

He comprehended that Belle didn't know people were staring at her and he had the feeling that if she did, she wouldn't have thought it was because of her looks. All the other women that Gaston knew would have gloated and sucked up the attention like an old whore, but not Belle.

He was practically standing over her and she didn't notice. He found himself moving out of the way with deft skills when she suddenly shot up from her seat on the fountain and screamed, "Lunch! I completely forgot!"

He didn't move far enough away and when she shot up, she shot right up into his arms. His first thought—_soft. _She was so soft against him. Through the layers of clothing between them, he could feel the contours of her body and they were so close, and by the widening of her eyes, Gaston was sure that she could feel that he was anything but soft. He was completely hard—_everywhere._

He saw her pretty brown eyes widen tremendously and heard and felt her gasp. She shoved out of his arms, nearly falling over the pile of books that she had piled up. Gaston had to reach out and catch her again, he could have reached for her outstretched arm, but he took advantage and grabbed her by the dip in her waist and pulled her into him instead. He smiled as her face flooded with a pretty blush at the intimate contact. She moved to push away and when she did so her soft hip rubbed against his groin and he had to check a groan that rumbled up from his chest.

He let go of her so that they wouldn't make a scene, but he did so reluctantly. She was oblivious as she bent down and picked up her books, leaving her derriere to his perusal. The view was much too short as she quickly grabbed the books and righted herself, facing him again.

Gaston was thankful for the fact that they were so close. The folds of her skirt hid his desire from prying eyes. Without looking he knew that it was going to be more than noticeable if she moved away. She had to stay close enough while he calmed himself. But, considering she was the reason for his desire it made it a bit hard to calm down when so close to temptation.

"Bonjour, Belle," he said intimately and charmingly.

Her eyes sparked with fire at his tone and her mouth tightened, "Gaston I'm sorry, I can't stay I have to get home to my father." She turned her back on him and started walking.

He jumped into action, walking exceedingly close to her as his desire dwindled down. Her father? Humph. Maurice, the Madman as they called him down at the pub. Gaston almost laughed out loud, the man was a dunce, but he knew if he laughed it would only push Belle further away from him. Belle was also the only reason that the town didn't chase Maurice out.

"Oh, but Belle, wouldn't lunch be better with me, than an old man?" He laughed confidently and knowingly, grabbing her elbow and turning her towards the tavern.

"No, Gaston!" she jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Gaston I find spending time with my father very pleasurable and—" His chuckle cut her off.

"I think," he bent to whisper in her ear from behind her, "that you'll find the experience with me far more pleasurable." Gaston let his lips linger on the shell of her ear. Women always gave into him at this point and he was running out of options. If Belle didn't submit to him soon, he would have to resort to force. He would make her love him. No matter how long it took. No matter how she fought. She would love him. He would make sure of it. He had already waited nine months, he wasn't waiting any more.

Belle saw Gaston's eyes sharpen on her as she denied him yet again by pushing him forcefully away. She saw the ever-present anger and confidence in his gaze. He looked like a man who did what he wanted and her refusal to comply obviously didn't sit well with him.

His square jaw hardened and he retreated only inches. "Belle," he whispered, "you _will_ be mine. No matter how many damn books you read, no matter how many times your father messes up, I will be the one to take you as my wife. You will be the one to give me and take care of my children—as a proper woman should."

By his glare, Belle knew she was not a "proper" woman at the moment. She felt a flame of anger inside of her. She arched a brow in annoyance, he had no right to talk to her in such a way. She opened her mouth in an angry retort, "I will never mar—"

"Belle," he warned, "watch your words. I'm already annoyed that you insist on playing the coy damsel when clearly you'll give into me in the end. Now, why not be a good woman and come with me for once?" He looked at her body, mainly at her chest and hips, "I will make it more than pleasing for you."

He looked like he was holding on by a thread, his control almost destroyed. He was starting to close in on her, she backed up a few spaces from his brazen actions. She thought quickly of quick denials and refusals, he'd react with nothing but anger if she was too harsh. So, she tried to move around the subject with a hidden refusal.

"But…but, what will my father or the people think Gaston? I have my reputation to think of."

"If you wish we can be married by morning. I've already discussed with the priest of a wedding ceremony."

Before she knew it her back was against a wall of a building and Gaston was getting closer. She could easily reach out and touch his chest when he finally stopped. Incredulousness clogged her throat—he'd talked to the priest? About marriage to her? She fought a sliver of fear, she had believed that Gaston's seduction had been simply to do just that—seduce, she hadn't actually believed that he desired marriage. That he really did, that she could be tethered to this man by the force of the town was terrifying.

"When did you talk to the priest?" She wanted to know how long he had been planning this and at this point would almost say anything to stall him from coming closer.

"Three weeks after you arrived into town. You became the most beautiful girl in the town, therefore you became mine."

Belle tensed as his palms came crashing down beside her head, caging her within his arms. The wide breadth of his chest blocked any possible view she could have had other than him. Panic welled up as she huddled as close as she could to the wall. What if she couldn't get away? What if—"

As he was leaning into her body, he was stopped mid-lean by a screeching feminine voice. "Gaston! How lucky we are to see you here!" The tone of the voice was a hint annoyed with forced cheerfulness. Gaston raised an eyebrow, until that moment Belle hadn't known how angry a person could look by just that simple facial action. He pulled himself away reluctantly, Belle felt thankful for the person that had interrupted them, but she also felt pity for the fact that they'd have to deal with the angry brute.

As Belle's surroundings once again became visible she was able to see the woman that had spoken, it was Helen, one of the pretty triplets of the town. Next to her was Gaston's not-so-diligent minion—LeFou. The stout portly fellow that followed Gaston like an adoring puppy, unfortunately not nearly as cute one though.

His bulbous nose hung over thick blubbering lips that always seemed to be dripping with saliva… he was not an attractive specimen. Belle was somewhat surprised to see the homely man with the pretty girl, not because of the difference in looks, but because Helen usually only targeted men with bulging brawn. By the way she was hungrily eyeing Gaston, she was likely only using LeFou to get to him. Belle felt a pang of sympathy for LeFou, but the sentiment was quickly dashed as she witnessed his hand grope Helen.

Helen's eyes widened when she saw that it was Belle whom he had had pressed up against the wall. She silently seethed and at the same time recoiled as she felt LeFou's chubby hand travel farther down past her lower back. She quickly shifted trying to mask her distaste. LeFou had spilled a pint of ale on himself at the pub and now he stunk of it. She could almost get sloshed off the fumes coming from his body.

She also moved because she didn't want Gaston to notice LeFou touching her. After all she had endured from LeFou just to stay close to Gaston, she would be damned before LeFou ruined it all for her.

"So, Belle," she tried to sound sweet as sugar, but everything that left her mouth was a smidgen snide. "What are you and… _Gaston _doing out this evening?"

She knew full well what they had been doing. She saw how Gaston stared at Belle and she knew how he had warned his men to stay away from her, pretty much claiming her for his. And Belle, the petty little bitch, was seducing him. She'd probably used her body to ensnare him in a marriage trap, what a whorish move. Helen snorted, she would never have to lower herself to that level, she was perfect enough as it was. She was somewhat surprised when Gaston answered her, for she had addressed Belle.

Helen realized to late that she had somehow messed up, Gaston had leveled that scary yet undeniably sexy glare on her. She had angered him somehow.

"LeFou, control your whore! She intervened in a very agreeable marriage proposal."

Helen felt her jaw drop, a marriage proposal? He thought she was a whore? He wanted to marry Belle? _Belle_? In her dumbfounded state she didn't even fight off the meaty hand of LeFou when he slung it around her waist and placed a sloppy kiss on her neck. LeFou pulled her into his side and she heard through a fog his drunken baffling.

"Why, this young lady," he burped unpleasantly. "Is very nice company." He then made vulgar motions with his hands to accentuate his point.

Gaston's lip curled in distaste as he glanced from Helen to LeFou, he turned his gaze to Belle or where Belle was supposed to be. She wasn't there anymore. She watched as Gaston turned himself around, looking full-circle. Helen spotted the little whore running up the trail to her house. She wasn't about to point out the location of the enemy to her beloved.

Gaston only got more frustrated at the fact that Belle was gone, he tried yelling at LeFou a little more, but LeFou was too drunk and to focused on groping Helen to really understand the insults that Gaston was shoving at him. With rage in his actions, Gaston turned and stomped off towards the tavern, but that's not what killed Helen. As he was going into the tavern, Gwen, Helen's sister and triplet, was outside. Gaston spoke a few words before grabbing her by the hand and tugging her inside, even from the distance between them, Helen could hear Gwen's giggles. She had no doubt what they were going to be doing in the tavern, she had longed to be picked by Gaston herself in such a fashion. Instead she got stuck with LeFou, she glanced down at the man in question, he was staring brazenly at her chest. It was all Belle's fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Belle closed the door and leaned against it, breathing out a sigh filled with relief at the fact that she'd made it back home. Once Gaston had been distracted enough that she could slip behind him, she had made a run for it. She felt her heart in her throat, from the lingering fear that she could have been followed if he had spotted her. She swallowed the fear and steeled her back, trying to build herself back up. It didn't matter if Gaston would have caught up with her, she told herself, she would have put him in his place!

Reality set in and she knew she wouldn't have had a chance if he had truly been serious. She shook herself and thanked her luck that her father wasn't in the main room to witness her show of nerves. Speaking of her father, Belle wasn't entirely sure where he was. She glanced around their small home with appreciation. She loved this house, it was homey and lovable. The only drawback of the house was the unfortunate place it was in.

She pushed herself away from the door to toe off her shoes, being careful to set them on the woven rug. She had no desire to clean up the dirt her shoes would track in. The house was a bit chilly. Belle flinched as her bare feet met the cold wood of the floor. The fire-place in the living room had been neglected and had nearly burnt all the way down. She quickly stoked it and then went into the kitchen to turn on the small stove for some hot tea. Hopefully the extra heat would spread to the rest of the house.

She left the pile of books she had brought home on the kitchen counter and looked for a sign of her father. Everything was in order, which was a definite sign that her father wasn't around. When he came into the kitchen Belle always found all the cupboard doors thrown open and miscellaneous cups and plates lying around the house. The man was a lovable menace.

But, there was no sign of him. Running upstairs to check the bedrooms also came up empty, but just as she was ready to run back downstairs she heard a dull…_ yell? _Was that what she heard? Running down the stairs two at a time, she noticed that the basement door which was in the kitchen, had smoke billowing out from underneath it.

Belle dove at the door ripping it open, "Father!" she yelled down the stairs. She lifted her skirts to go down into the thick smoke. She was stopped by a burly shape hustling up the stairs. The shape was hacking and coughing, with hair sticking up all over his head and black residue clinging to everything. Her father looked horrible.

"Belle," he reached the top of the stairs and she stepped back so he could get through. "You're home. I—" He was cut off by another fit.

"Oh, Papa! Sit, here," she put her arm around him and helped him to the dining table. "Let me help you." Unfortunately, this was a situation that happened often, her father was always creating fires down there, either by accident or really on purpose.

He sat heavily down in the chair, he had stopped coughing uncontrollably and Belle noticed through the open basement door that the smoke was also being ventilated out. Her father had made an invention for that and she could hear it running. Since there were always fires, her father had needed to take action. He made it so that if there was a fire, the smoke wouldn't nearly be as bad. Belle couldn't imagine how bad the smoke really would have been without it.

There were black smudges all over his face and even in his white hair. He had on thick goggles that protected his eyes, but when he took them off, Belle almost smiled despite the situation. The goggles had left the skin untouched by the smoke making black rings around both of his eyes. He was quite a sight. The black soot that was clinging to him also clung to anything that he happened to touch. It looked like she would be cleaning the floors after all.

"Belle, you'll never believe it!" the excitement in his voice was palpable. His voice was scratchy, but was quickly returning to normal the more he talked. "I made it work!"

Belle tried to think of what he was working on and couldn't think of—wait, he had made _that_ work. "You mean," her astonishment was cut off by his excitement.

"Yes! Can you believe it? After all these months of slaving, it works!" Her father's happiness spread to her and she congratulated him with a tight hug.

"I can't believe it, Papa, I'm so happy for you!"

"Would you like to see it? Come on," without waiting for a response he jumped up and sped to the basement. Belle laughed at his excitement as she followed.

When in the basement, her eyes fell onto a monstrosity that hadn't been there before, she gasped, "Is this the invention?"

Her father clapped his hands excitedly and was almost jumping up and down, "Yes! I finally have it put together." He grabbed a small wrench-like tool and dove underneath it with vigor. Belle stood watching him tighten up something underneath the carriage of the machine. Her eyes watered from the still intense smell of the smoke. The little "smoke-catcher" as her father called it was still purring away and drawing in smoke.

The basement was made up of many tables that had mountains of tools on them and bookshelves that were strictly used as tall tool sheds. Her father had industrialized their basement, she realized with a smile.

Her father was taking a lot of time on his prized possession, hadn't he said it was finished? As she had this thought the giant machine kicked into gear, it's lever falling only to raise back up in a continuous repeated action. Her father jumped out from underneath with a cheer.

"Do you see that Belle? Do you hear it, it's working," he shouted over the loud banging of the machine. Belle, mystified and impressed, she knew her father would do it. She was grinning as she asked her father how it worked.

"Just watch," he grinned in excitement.

The machine was large and square like, with gears and levers on the outside. On the top of the haul of the machine was a pile of uncut logs. As the levers and wheels gained speed, Belle watched in amazement as one of the logs disappeared into the contraption. She rose up on tip toe to see if she could look into the machine, but it was much too high and she was far away. Inside she heard dull thwacks and clanks, and overtop that was the sound of crunching wood. Her brow knit in confusion, what was going on in there?

Belle jumped back in surprise, there was a small dispenser on the machine and now it was raining out small wood chips. That's what it did! Belle couldn't contain her astonishment, how had her father managed to make such a thing, it was amazing. No longer would he or she have to go out and chop wood by hand, this machine could do it.

She gasped, "Oh, Father, it's amazing! How did you ever do it?"

He folded his hands in front of him and leaned back on his heels, "Oh, I'm just brilliant." He looked sly as he looked side-ways at her and said, "Don't you think it will win first prize at the fair tomorrow?"

"I had completely forgotten! So, that's why you've been working so late!"

"Yes, and I am determined to win this year! For the past four years, I've came in second place! No, more I tell you! I will be the champion," he raised his fist in the air as if to curse those that had beaten him previously.

"Well, I'm sure you will, Papa. This is an invention that every person could wish for."

"Thank you, Belle. I couldn't have done it without you." He patted her on the shoulder, before grabbing a foreign tool and thunking it on the side of the machine turning it off. "Now, let's go eat—I'm starved," he smiled.

In the kitchen, Belle was busy serving the soup when she heard the sound of the clock in the living room. "Oh, I'm sorry lunch is so late today, I was…um, _detained_ in town, then the incident with the fire, it's just thrown me off schedule."

"Don't worry, Belle," he soothed as he dug into his bowl of soup with ravenous vigor. "Did you have a good time in town today?"

Belle bit her lip as she prepared her own bowl of soup, she cut off a slice of the bread that she had made that morning, trying to act indifferent to the question. "It was okay," she said slowly, but she couldn't help herself when she said, "Papa, do you think I'm odd?"

He looked up and he had soup dribbling down his chin, he had his reading glasses on too making his eyes appear twice their normal size. "My daughter, odd?" he snorted, "Wherever would you get a crazy idea like that?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said. She knew the townspeople thought they were both crazy. She just had to get over it and not worry about what others thought of her. But, that didn't stop her from saying, "I don't think the townspeople want us here."

"Oh, pish posh, Belle. Their opinions don't matter. What about that Gaston fellow, I know for a fact that he likes having you in town. He would be a nice catch for a husband, he's very handsome," he slurped up some more soup.

Belle shuddered, thinking about her experience with Gaston. She glanced at her father to see if he noticed her distaste. He didn't. She didn't want to tell him about what happened in town, because she was worried he would try to stop her from going. As unpleasant as it was, going into town was the only way to keep up her supply of books. There was no way she was going to stop reading because of Gaston. But she wasn't scared of showing her father her opinion of Gaston. "Oh, he's handsome alright and he knows it. He's too handsome for his own good. Papa, he's not for me, he's rude and conceited and I find it nearly unbearable to be near him."

"But, doesn't everyone like Gaston?" he asked innocently.

"But that's just it! He was given those good looks and he uses them to no end." Belle huffed out a breath as she sat down with her soup. Than a thought occurred to her, "Wait, do you expect me to marry Gaston?"

Her father fidgeted uncomfortably and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "Well, the thought crossed my mind. But, Belle," he looked right at her then, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Not for me, Gaston, or even the town. Do what you truly want to do."

Belle smiled and there wasn't any more tension in the room. They continued on with conversation taking it down a different route. Eventually it came to a discussion of the fair that was taking place the next day.

Finished with his lunch, Maurice pushed the empty bowl away and sighed, "I should go get ready for that. I'll have to leave in about an hour or two if I want to make it in time."

Happy with the change in the conversation Belle asked, "Do you need help packing?"

"No, I can handle it. I only need a few things for I'll only be gone two days if everything goes according to plan." He pushed up from the table, patting his stomach, "that was quite good, Belle. Oh, I guess there is one thing that you could help me with. If you could saddle up Philippe for me, it would save me quite a bit of time," he left the room almost giddy with excitement over the fair.

Belle grabbed the dishes and put them in the basin for later, before heading outside to the small stable they had. When she stepped outside she pulled her cloak tighter around herself, the house had heated up sufficiently and the sudden onslaught of outside weather surprised her.

Inside the stable, Philippe was nibbling at strands of hay but lifted his head when she came to him. Belle grabbed a brush from the wall before entering the stall. She gave the intimidating horse a sugar cube to ensure cooperation, although Philippe was gentle he could be a little stubborn at times.

While she was brushing him down she let her mind wander, as she often did with mundane tasks. After brushing him down thoroughly, she belted the leather harness and saddle onto him. He was well used to this process and didn't prance or shift too much, but nonetheless Belle whispered sweet nothings to him to keep him calm. By the time she was done, her father came in the stable door.

"Well, I've finished packing. I'm ready to head off."

Belle was feeling bittersweet for her father. She was so happy to see him doing something he enjoyed, but the small selfish part of her was sad he was going to be gone, albeit for only a short time. Belle patted Philippe before stepping back to embrace her father.

"I'll miss you while you're gone." She said into his shirt. He hugged her back, crushing her with his gentle strength.

"I'll be back before you'll have to miss me." He fondly kissed her forehead and strode to their horse. "Belle, can you grab that rope off the wall over there?"

Belle looked for the indicated rope and when she handed it to him she remembered the reason her father was going—the invention.

"Father, how are you going to get the machine out of the basement?"

"Already done, Belle. It's sitting outside ready to be hauled."

"How did you—" Belle wondered out loud, before she checked herself. The dimension of the machine was much too large to have gone out the outside basement entrance. It would have had to been rigged in some way. On second thought, she didn't want to know, she didn't want to think about the mess that the machine might have caused on the way out of the house.

Together they lead Philippe out of the stable to where, indeed there was a cart set up with the machine in it and Father's trunks. He truly was ready to go. A few moments later, her father was up on the horse and had the cart behind them and they were moving towards the road in the forest.

Belle watched her father wave before the glare of the setting sun was too much and she had to shield her eyes. Her father's words to take care while he was gone rung in her ears as she watched his shadowed form disappear into the dense forest.

Belle cleaned up the last of the soot that was on the floor with a wet rag. She got up from her knees and realized that it was already midnight. She was in the middle of the kitchen when she heard the _sound_.

Her ears perked up and she went on alert, she walked into the living area to the window and looked out. The moon in the sky was full and bright, making the area lighter than normal. There it was again. A howl… maybe a yell, it couldn't be both. Could it?

All she could see were the black outlines of the trees and the stable, nothing suspicious. She laughed at herself, she was already hearing noises and she'd only been home mere hours. Well, she thought, at least she will be getting plenty of excitement while her father was gone, she had to take what she could get in this town.

She went upstairs and changed her clothes, she'd take a full bath in the morning, she was too tired to do anything but wash her face in the small basin she kept in her room. With nothing but her chemise on, she crawled into her feather bed and grabbed a book off the pile on her nightstand. She flipped to a page and snuggled down into the blanket, before she dozed off her brow knitted in confusion. She heard it again. The howling yell, but this time she felt… _it was calling to her_. With that sleep claimed her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than the other two, so sorry if that disappoints anyone. Another thing, I had two other chapters up previously that I took down and I put two different ones in there place (they have the same ideas as the first ones they are just rewritten and edited) So, if you've read the other versions of the first two chapters it may be a good idea to re-read these new ones, because these ones _are_ a bit different. But, if you didn't read the earlier ones, ignore the weirdness that I speak of in this note.**

**Please any of my horrendous grammar follies! and finally- Happy Reading!**

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Chapter 3

"Philippe! I must demand you calm down, what has gotten into you? Now, go this way," Maurice tightened his hands on the reins and tugged the horse's stubborn head the way they had to go. At this rate they weren't going to reach the fair in time and there was no way he was going to let that happen. He got second place last year which just meant he was the first loser, that wasn't going to happen again. He was getting first place, one way or another.

Not that he didn't understand Philippe's want to go the other way, the way they were headed now was somewhat… disturbing. The trees were darker here, and more crowded leaving it dense and impossible to see through in the night-time. Maurice could see the yellow reflections of eyes lurking in the bushes and trees. That was all he could see and he didn't particularly care for it.

The feeling of a presence behind him wouldn't go away no matter how many times he glanced over his shoulder.

Philippe's hooves bit into the hard earth, making dull thuds. Luckily the road was clear and he didn't have to lead Philippe around anything. So, that should have been the only sound. Nothing rustling on the road and Philippe wasn't stepping on anything. So… why were twigs snapping?

Something was following them and didn't want them to know about it.

Maurice stopped Philippe. Dead silent. Not even crickets or birds, just his own hard breathing. "Something isn't right," he whispered. He nudged Philippe again, but stopped quickly. Twigs _behind them _snapped.

Maurice whipped the cart around with a yell. There was nothing there. He decided to return to the intersection where he had first chosen to come this way. It would take about thirty minutes to get back, but it was worth it. He was completely blind in this area and his ears were apparently playing tricks on him. He nudged Philippe and Philippe was all too ready to head back the way they had come. But, Maurice heard sounds again causing him to speed the horse up every few moments, pretty soon they were running at full speed. The cart rumbling and jerking behind them, but Maurice didn't care, he had to get out of there.

That was when it all went wrong.

Maurice heard a louder snap, but it was no twig that snapped. This time it was Philippe's leg, the horse went down with a cry, throwing Maurice off him head over heels. Maurice's body hit the rocky dirt with a thud. Distantly he heard Philippe whinny, the horses harsh breathes penetrated the darkness.

Maurice sat up painfully, he was sore everywhere and in more pain than he had ever been, but he understood that he had to get out of the forest. So, with painful resolution he stood on quivering legs and stumbled to his horse.

Philippe was attempting to stand. His actions frantic and scared. Despite the danger a spooked horse offered, Maurice felt for Philippe's leg, the one that had given out. Maurice didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, maybe the joint was a tad bit swollen, but that was good compared to the damage the fall could have helped the crazed horse as much as Philippe would allow and got him into position. He had to wait for the horse to calm down though before he could ride him, the brief attempt to mount him proved that. The horse had not reacted well.

"Good boy, you're doing great," Maurice patted thick muscle of Philippe's neck. The horse's breathing was starting to return to normal and Maurice was starting to think that everything was going to be okay. He was wrong.

He wasn't making any noise and neither was the horse, but something was moving near them. The sounds of padded feet and then a soft yet lethal growl erupted beside Philippe's leg. Philippe reared and kicked and made his terror vocal, Maurice lost his control over the horse immediately and with the cart connected to him, Philip took off leaving Maurice alone in the dark. Maurice heard a wolf howl and saw the dark shape hurdle after the cart. Wolves, that was what was after them and had been following them.

Without a thought Maurice ran, which probably only enraged the animals further. He knew they were following him even if he couldn't hear them. They were farther behind him now than they had been because they had chased after Philippe, but now that Philippe made it away, Maurice was now the target. He was an easy target.

He was already panting and limping with the effort of running at full speed. It was painful for his knees and ankles, but what other choice did he have? He ran without much more thought.

He heard barks behind him, loud vicious barks that put a chill down Maurice's back. They were upon him, he didn't stand a chance.

Gasping for air through his burning lungs he ran through a small burst of foliage into a clearing, or what he thought was a clearing. He didn't feel as trapped as he had a few moments ago so he assumed he was out of the woods. He ran even faster, there was nowhere to hide now, even if he had wanted to. He was going to die.

He kept running though, he wouldn't go down without a fight, but blind due to the darkness and thinking that his pathway was clear, Maurice ran head first into a metal frame. The last thing Maurice remembered was the bite of a wolf.

* * *

Maurice groaned out loud. He was in extreme pain. He tried to lean up, but found sore ribs to stop him from doing so; he gasped and eased himself up in a slower way.

"Oh," he nearly fainted as all the blood drained from his head, he felt sick and woozy. He cradled his hands and realized that hurt most of all. The huge gash on his head was extremely painful and was quickly forming a lump. When he felt good enough to open his eyes he saw that one of his legs had a bloody gash on it—it came back to him.

The wolves, the attack, the fair, what had happened to him? He looked around in crazed wonder. He had been sure he had been dead. There was no way he would have gotten away from the dangers by himself.

When he looked at his surroundings, he realized that he was in the foyer of some… _castle_? No it couldn't be a castle it was too dusty to be a castle. Besides, how could there be a castle in the forest that the town didn't know about. Given, the place was a great deal away, but these forests were well-traveled. Maybe this place was abandoned.

Maurice stood up carefully, nearly falling on his face, he stabled himself on the small table that was near him.

The foyer housed a huge crimson carpet that dominated the center of the marble flooring. Even though there was spider webs clinging to corners of the room, a viewer could still gather that the place was expensively decorated—if a bit out of date. The room was long and wide, he squinted to see the end of the hall. Above him led to a landing that had two flowing staircases on either side that hugged the wall. Although he was inside, this place was no more comforting than the forest was. It felt like the walls themselves were watching him. He turned his ear towards the wall and felt as if they were almost communicating.

Maurice was not comfortable.

"Hello… is anybody there?" His voice echoed uncannily in the empty space, bouncing back to his ears. He ran a shaking hand through his white hair and limped further into the room. His foot dragged a bit on the floor because of the wolf bite on his leg. He still didn't know how he got in this place. Probably better if he never found out.

He was about half the way through the foyer when he spotted a glow underneath one of the many doors in the hall. He rubbed his arms with the chill of the castle and made his way to the door. He had to take his chances with whatever was in the room. He hoped that the owner would be able to help him out, but due to the circumstances already, he really doubted. Who would just bring an injured person in and leave them in front of the door without any contact or information. Who was the owner of this place? With that final thought, Maurice pushed the heavy mahogany door open and entered.

* * *

The familiar anger that was always there swelled to a toiling boil inside his chest. His muscles tightened and expanded making him larger and more intimidating. The fur on his arched back rose to pointed threats. His body now looked deadlier than normal, which was a feat in itself.

The little man that meandered into his den had no right being there. The beast that ruled didn't like that, didn't like that at all. In fact, he hated it.

He was going to make his hate known.

He gave a vicious smirk that made the surrounding walls tremble and shake. The claws that rendered cement as if it were fabric bit into the marble railing. The violent crack of the railing sent a thrill down the beasts back, right before he lunged over the barrier and with that lunge he made a decision.

His decision was that- the little man will die.


	4. Chapter 4

**It took me soooo long to update this little fart! Sorry that is due to my inability to think up storyline and my horrible love affair with procrastination. Anywho, this chapter you meets the big mean beast and his lovable buddies! Now I did take liberties with the characters of Lumiere, Cogsworth and the rest of the servants, because I tried to write them as a candlestick and a clock and it just wasn't going to work for a more mature story, so I changed them a bit. But, I think their current status makes them much more usable in future storyline. Let me in on your thoughts in reviews! Happy Reading!**

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Chapter 4

Maurice felt the pleasant warmth of the fire that had led him into the room. The room looked lived in, still cold—not physically but emotionally in a way. If a room could truly feel like that, this one did. Yes, that's the best way to describe it, the room was emotionally devastated.

It was as finely decorated as the foyer had been. The hearth that roared and sparked had to be the largest one he had even seen, even larger than the one at the tavern in town and that one was substantial. In front of the fire was a stuffed chair, it was garish in its splendor. Its red velvet cushions were good enough for a king to sit in. When Maurice peered closer the gold etching that surrounding the chair was _real_ gold. The gold wound around the legs of the chair and the cushions as if to invite and tease those who weren't worthy enough to sit in it.

This room was also large; there was a long dining table on the other side of the room, large enough to entertain a group of guests. The walls were lined with richness, jewels and treasures that dazzled the eye. The thick carpet that stretched in front of the hearth looked of Persian descent, not an item that any normal man would have.

But despite all the splendor it was all spoiled by the spider webs and the thick dust that had settled. This place obviously had been someone's pride and joy, even a king's. He just couldn't understand how no one had heard of it before. How could a whole town be in the dark about something like this?

"_He ran into the iron fence of the castle, he was about to be eaten by the wolves!_"

"—_but does he have to be inside? Can he not just stay on the inside of the gate away from the wolves—and the master? I didn't even think of that—what will the master think when he finds out?_"

"_He won't know, the master is in the West Wing. So, this man will not be a problem! And it isn't my fault he meandered into the castle, _I_ didn't invite him in, the _castle_ itself let him in."_

"_Yes, he will! He always knows what happens! Why would the castle let him in, it never lets others in. We have to—"_

"_Wait you buffoon… Can he hear us?"_

Maurice listened to the sudden intrusion of voices. They sounded as if they were coming from the room itself. But, with a quick look around he didn't see anyone. He was still standing in the center of the room and with a nervous turn he yelled, "Hello?"

"_What? He can hear us? Only the master is supposed to hear us and know of our existence," _the voice sounded worried yet intrigued at the same time.

Another voice added itself, it was heavily accented and impatient, "_Well, obviously he can. Let's show ourselves!"_

"_No, what are—"_

"Yes, do show yourselves. I-I'm somewhat disturbed that I can't see you."

There was silence for a bit. A silence loaded with suspicion and intrigue. Maurice limped around for a bit to the front of the chair. He continued to glance around nervously, but nothing was showing itself.

"_Well, you see I'm already in front of you," _it was the accented voice that spoke. The voice was inviting and apologetic. As he spoke he heard a snort of derision ring through the room.

Maurice's brows knitted in confusion, the only thing in front of him was the hearth. "I don't understand, the only thing I see is fire."

He heard a sigh, the other voice was more pompous and uppity as he spoke, "_Imbecile."_

"_Cogsworth! Enough."_ The accented voice was angered, but gentled when he turned back to Maurice. "_Sir, this news will be shocking, but, well, I am the fire that you are seeing."_

Maurice was sure he was being joked about. He felt his mustache twitch angrily at the thought and forcefully said, "Now I don't know what game you people are playing, but I do not like these lies and jokes!" He was scared, tired, and injured. He was worried about his horse and his invention. Well, at least he had the comfort of knowing Belle was safe at home. "Now, show yourself. I am a harmless old man who just yearns for some warmth at the moment."

Another sigh, "_Yes, well that is what I am trying to do—show myself I mean. You see, I am the fire. I am the warmth that you seek."_

Maurice almost stomped his foot, the injury was the only thing that stopped him, "Fine you don't want to show me who you are- then don't. Just don't fool a cold old man. Just tell me how I can get back home." The fair didn't matter anymore, this expedition had taken an unfortunate toll on his body and all he desired was rest.

The voice was annoyed this time, "_I am no liar. I _am_ the fire, if you won't believe me, I'll show you_!" The flames in the hearth suddenly shot out towards him and Maurice felt a frightful amount of heat and a force shoved him down into the velvet chair that was behind him. The violent movements of the flames slowly died down and they returned to normal. Maurice's eye's felt like they were going to pop out of his head he was holding them so wide. His breath came in harsh pants and he felt his heart beat against his breast. His fingers bit into the plush fabric and he tried to speak—not that he was sure he could, but before he could try, the voice, the _fire_ spoke again. "_I am the light of this castle the heat. I, along with others keep it alive."_

"A-alive—the castle?" Maurice couldn't control his stuttering, the idea that the flames could speak was just too unbelievable for him to comprehend, it couldn't possibly be true. In fact, he was starting to think that he was going insane. Maybe the people down at the pub had really been onto something all along. Maybe he was Maurice the Madman.

"_Yes, _alive._ You see, any fire you see in this castle is me. My human name is Lumiere or it once was. The other voice you heard was Cogsworth. He's time."_

"T-time? What do you mean time?"

The other voice spoke up with a humph, his voice laced pompously, "_I am the time, you fool. Time, as in minutes, hours, days of the castle, I alone control how much time passes in the castle." _

Maurice blinked at the insulting tone of the voice—Cogsworth, and narrowed his eyes. He didn't like being made fun of, especially not by this _Cogsworth._

"_Excuse him, Monsieur," _Lumiere said, "_Cogsworth doesn't like when something comes up and affects his time management." _The flames danced as if in jest and Maurice felt the air ripple in annoyance.

Maurice was still a bit doubtful that any of this was really happening to him. For all he knew, he could still be lying knocked out outside and simply be dreaming all of this. But, the heat of the fire, the pain of his wounds, and the undeniable details of the room proved that he wasn't dreaming at all. He took a deep breath and decided to take a leap of faith per se, he'd accept that the fire really was talking to him, but time, how could time be talking. He asked.

"_Well, Cogsworth is everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time. Time is everywhere you can't escape it, but there is no solid proof of time. Clocks really aren't time itself, they are more of a judgment of time. I can't explain any other than time is always with you even if you can't see it, that is why Cogsworth can still speak to us, but you will never be able to see him physically as you can my form." _Lumiere sounded sad, but accepting. Why would he be sad, unless—

"Wait, a minute. Why do you have actual names then if you are just the beings that control this castle? You were human once weren't you." It wasn't a question, but a bold fact.

The silence this time was different, deafening in its pained sadness. Maurice was somewhat surprised when Cogsworth answered.

"_Yes… we were human…once."_

Well, that made it somewhat easier for Maurice to accept, that would mean that they weren't a _completely_ different life form. Or at least he would keep telling himself that. "So… you are ghosts of the castle." Maurice had heard of haunting before but he had never heard of an actual fire or even the air being haunted. In a strange way he found himself hoping that it was just a simple haunting. Simple. Maurice almost laughed with madness at the thought.

Lumiere's flames stretched up the chimney, and Maurice had to admit that he was happy for the heat that the fire was giving him. His wounds didn't hurt as much as they did. But, as soon as he moved he swore he felt the pain all the way to his ears. It wasn't pleasant.

"_No, Monsieur, not exactly. We are more invisible inhabitants than anything else."_

"But, if you were human, wouldn't you have had to have died to become what you are now?"

"_In short, no, death is not the only trap that someone can be in. Let's change the subject shall we? You need sustenance, you have had a hard night. Mrs. Potts if you would serve Monsieur, um… My deepest apologies but do you have a name, I seem to have missed it."_

"Oh, Ma-Maurice!"

"_Ah, well, Monsieur Maurice, would you care for a spot of tea? Oh, Mrs. Potts!"_

"Wait, who's Mrs. Pott's?

Cogsworth decided to join the conversation, "_She's the china and crockery. Mainly in charge of the distribution of food and such, not that you needed to know!"_

"There's more… spirits, such as yourselves?"

"_Why of course a whole castles worth!"_

With that a door at the back of the room behind Maurice opened up and he heard the sound of a cart wheeling forward and then it was beside his chair with a steaming hot tea in a small chipped cup. Maurice stared at the trolley in shock. Despite taking to a fire and time, being served by an invisible spirit was just downright unnerving.

"_Why hello, Dearie!" _A mature feminine voice came from nowhere. Or did it come from the tea-pot on the tray, he just didn't know anymore.

"Uh, hello, pleased I'm sure."

"_I haven't talked to a single soul outside of this castle since the curse—"_

Cogsworth erupted, the air practically shimmered, "_Mrs. Potts, don't tell him about that!"_

"_Oh, shush. It would have come out eventually." _The voice addressed Cogsworth but turned back to him when she asked, "_Why can you hear us? No one has ever heard us before, other than Master himself. There have been any intruders before, so no one has ever responded to our voices. We've all but given up ho—" _The voice cut off with a gasp and another silence took over the room. It wasn't like the other ones though. This silence seemed as if it were racked in fear. Staring into the fire, Maurice saw the flames draw back and shrink away from him. Not even Cogsworth spoke, the air was completely still.

Maurice wasn't sure what was wrong. He didn't know why it had gone silent. "What curse?" His voice was quiet in the gloom of the room, barely whispered.

A sudden chill flew down Maurice's back, feeling like death's cold caress and he knew why it had gone still. There was a low growl, it erupted from behind the chair and before Maurice could go fully on alert, a mountain's shadow fell over him from behind. Maurice was too afraid to look up.

The shadow of the thing had to be exaggerated, there was no way that something could be that large, but stalk up to something so quietly. But, Maurice had the feeling that it wasn't an exaggeration.

Then Maurice's fear hit a new level when he heard a voice. The words were human, but the voice was the farthest thing from human. He could barely make the words out, what kind of creature could have a shadow so large and still have the ability to speak?

"Why, I do believe we have a visitor," the voice was filled with hatred, Maurice doubted he would ever hear so much rage in one voice ever again.

He felt more than heard the thing's movement and he knew that it was leaning over him. If he would have looked up he would have seen it. He had no desire to look up. His fear clutched at him, he wasn't normally an easily scared man. But, this castle was having an unfortunate effect on him.

He was so afraid. He was tired of being afraid, tired and angry. No more. _He was done being afraid this night_. Maurice took a deep breath in through his nose, preparing himself. He wasn't going to run anymore. With that he looked up—and for the second time that night he knew nothing else.

* * *

The rage. The rage and anger were taking over his vision. His clawed hands were wanting to move without his will. He was a hair's breadth from shredding the intruder to ribbons. In fact, he would have under normal conditions. He'd done it before to stragglers who lost their way. It was just too much to risk for a villager to know about the curse. This man could go back to the town and tell the people of his existence. There would be an uproar and that couldn't happen. The man would have to die. Eventually.

However, that was before the beast had discovered that the man could talk with the castle. None of the other intruders had been able to. They hadn't even been able to make it into the castle itself, just the grounds beyond the gate. He'd always taken care of them before they got too close. What was the difference of this man, this frail puny man who was slouched limp in his chair? Well, he was going to find out. He would interrogate him when he finally woke up.

His vision went red as he stared down at the limp body, his rage only growing. His fists clenched, his own claws rendering the palm of his hands. He felt warm blood drip between his knuckles. He wanted to kill, but he wouldn't. Not yet. Not until he got his answers.

His lip curled back from his fangs as he gave the old man a smile, a smile that he couldn't see, but if he could the man would have probably went into heart failure. The thought made the smile widen more.

"So, you've come to see the beast, have you?" the ferocity and mockery in his voice could be heard. Now, whether he was mocking the fallen man or himself he wasn't sure. He growled and seized the old man's coat using it to jerk him up off the chair, holding him up almost like a trophy before turning to the fire.

"What do you think about our guest, Lumiere?" The fire flickered weakly and the beast snorted. "Well, isn't it a pity that you all didn't get to finish up your little tea party?" He was angry, not only did the castle go against him but his servants did too. He was apparently truly alone.

"_We just thought—" _Mrs. Potts started.

His roar shook the castle walls, paintings shook and fell from their perches and his rage echoed to the whole castle. "How dare you think!" He was still yelling, he'd lost the ability to care long ago, "You are here in this castle for one reason and one reason only, you are here to suffer my Hell with me! You do not have feelings or emotions or thoughts, you are objects to do as I tell you!"

"_Master, we thought he could help with the spell!"_

The beast felt a newfound anger burst forth and he grabbed the teapot from the cart and threw it at Lumiere's flames, dousing half of them and causing Lumiere's voice to yell out with fear and pain. "Do you think you're leaving this castle? You'll never leave, because the curse will never be lifted!" With that, he gripped the old man harder and tore out of the room. It had given him pleasure to hurt Lumiere, it gave him pleasure to hurt anyone.

He leaped onto the second floor railing, letting his clawed feet anchor him, before he leaped again, but this time landing running. He sped through his hallways and up his staircases until he came to the fifth tower. The fifth tower was the dungeon tower. Encased in metal and thick wood it was near impenetrable, perfect for their little guest.

After throwing the puny human into a cell, the beast retired to his lair. His hair was standing up on his neck from the day's events and the beast that he housed still wanted blood. It was never enough and he feared it would never be enough. As he stood in his own rooms with his actions echoing in the air around him, he felt his unhappiness like a cloak.

His rooms didn't have any light, he didn't want any light, but the moon lit up the only thing he cared for. He walked up to the delicate glass and lifted it gingerly. His paws making the domed glass look smaller than it really was. Then he stared at the dying rose.

Peace settled in. It was the only way he was ever calmed since the beast took over his life. He stared and along with the peace guilt came and it clouded his vision. He enjoyed his anger and reveled in it, but he didn't want to like it. He had always been like that though. He would never change. He didn't even deserve change.

One petal. That was all. It was his life and his death. It was _him_.

He walked to the balcony doors and flung them wide. With desperation, anger, and guilt all warring inside of him he yelled. He yelled for salvation and he hoped she heard.

He hoped she heard.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gaston grunted and shoved himself out from underneath the limp body of the woman he had just sated. Her name was Ginny, no, Ginger- no that wasn't right either. He couldn't remember her name and he didn't really care to stay and ask. All he could remember that during the climax he had slipped and said Belle's name. Luckily the woman had been screaming too loud to make the connection that the man rutting on top of her was imagining someone else. Not that it would have mattered if she had realized it—she wouldn't have asked him to stop at that point.

He rubbed a calloused hand over his face before turning to stare at the comatose woman. The light peeking through the crack of the window showed off the imperfections of her body. Imperfections that Gaston knew Belle wouldn't have. He sighed, no one would do but Belle it appeared. He had chosen this girl because in the darkness of the room the girl's reddish hair had appeared a dark brown, much like Belle's. But, now with the sun coming up the difference was obvious.

He wanted Belle badly.

He would have her. _Soon. _He was tired of making the same promise to himself and not coming through with a result.

He stood up from the prickly straw bed and pulled his pants back up with quick experienced motions. He hadn't even taken his pants all the way off. He fixed his tunic and his belt buckle before turning to the small mirror in the room. His hair had come half out of its leather band and now was sticking up unpleasantly. He quickly fixed the blunder. There…._perfect._

Without looking back at the woman who was snoring softly ever since they had finished, he strolled out of the room, not even giving her the privacy of shutting the door. He walked over to his modest showcasing of trophies. Dozens, maybe even hundreds, of hunting gear and kills decorated the walls above the pub's fire-place. Furs were in front of the fire and dangling from the wooden siding, Gaston had put his own personal flair on the tavern when he bought it from the old man who used to own it. All kills by Gaston, he would never hang anyone else's. Not that he needed to show off his skills. The town already knew of his greatness.

He was bracing his hands on the mantel of the fireplace, thinking of his options to get Belle into his bed and into his home. There weren't many, and almost all of them involved a considerable amount of force. He was scowling by the time Chester, the bartender, came up behind him. "Gaston! We thought the chit would never stop screamin,' she damn near woke the whole town," he gestured to the open door where the naked woman could easily be spotted. Then he set a pint of ale down on the mantle near Gaston's hand.

Gaston snorted humorlessly, "You weren't even close to her,_ my_ ears were nearly bleeding." Gaston waved Chester away and ignored the offered drink. He continued to stare into the fire, thinking. He could always use pregnancy to force a Belle into marriage. Sure he'd have to force her the first time, but surely she would feel something warmer for him once they were wedded. God, the thought of her pregnant with his child made him proud.

Chester grinned a man's grin and turned as if to leave, but swung himself around again and tapped Gaston on the shoulder and leaned to whisper in his ear, "I almost forgot, some of the men reported last night that Maurice jaunted off into the forest."

"And this concerns me how?" He asked somewhat annoyed that Chester hadn't left by now, but not annoyed enough to actually look up from his thoughts.

"It concerns you," still leaning in close, "because he was alone."

Gaston's head swung up at that. "What do you mean alone?"

"Just what I said. Belle was not with him for once."

"Who told you this? She's alone?" This perked Gaston's mood up tremendously and he even smiled. It was not a nice smile. Belle had never been alone with him, not truly. He had visited their house before, but Maurice was always lurking about like a suspicious shadow, making it impossible for Gaston to make any true headway with her. But, this—this changed everything.

Chester took a step back as Gaston turned around and fully faced him. He was huge and dwarfed Chester's leaner body. "The men that you had stationed in the forest outside her house told me this mornin' and, yes, she is very much alone." Chester winked and slapped Gaston on the shoulder, but then he pulled back and held his hand as if the blow had hurt him.

About a month after she had arrived, Gaston had been supremely interested in pursuing her just as much as he was now. He had employed some of the men in town and paid them to secrecy to watch Belle. He literally knew of her every move. He knew when to be in town and when to visit her at home. He protected what was his.

And making her his was the only thing he had on his mind. "Chester, search the town and find LeFou and send him to me, I'll be at my cabin. We have some preparing to do. Belle's going to get the surprise of her life."

"Ok," Chester wasn't entirely sure what Gaston was planning, but he knew it was something he would approve of. He smiled showing browning teeth and dark gums at the thought of what was to come. He couldn't help his wandering eye as he glanced towards the open door where the sleeping woman was, "but what do you want me to do with, erm, the lady," he once again gestured to the nude woman with a smile.

Gaston looked over as if he had already forgotten about the woman he bedded and snorted, "I don't care what you do with the _lady_. She's not my problem in the least and if you don't mind I'm going to go get a woman who is worth my time." With that Gaston strolled out of the tavern leaving Chester with the minor problem.

When he stepped out into the cold air, it bit through his clothes and into his skin making him grit his teeth. He grunted, he hated the chilliness that came with autumn and dreaded the upcoming winter.

He strolled past front window of the tavern to the alleyway that divided the pub from the other businesses. The alley led to the back of the pub where a stable had been erected for horses of customers and visitors that needed a place to stay. Rats and mice ran between his boots as he made his way down the shadowed passage, he kicked them out-of-the-way not wanting to step on them and soil his boots.

His personal room that he kept at the tavern, which hopefully Chester had vacated the girl from by then, also had a door to the stables. He hadn't wanted to go through his room and risk the chance of the girl waking up and begging another round, so he went the long way around.

Pulling his leather gloves from his pocket he entered his horse's stall, the largest stall that the small stable had to offer. Achille, the black brute of horse, kicked the stall when he approached and was eager to get out of the confining space. Gaston forced the saddle onto the excited horse and grabbed the reins, hauling himself atop the huge beast. He kicked the unlocked stall door with his foot and the horse lurched clear out of the stable.

The horse driven by freedom and Gaston wanting to hurry with his plans for Belle didn't notice the woman right outside the stable door and by the time they did—it was nearly too late. Gaston saw the woman he had bedded right in front of Achille and jerked the reins to signal a hard stop, the horse's head came back with the force and a sudden rear nearly had Gaston on the ground. Achille screamed with unholy rage at being stopped. A red rage filled Gaston as he stared down at the woman he had just avoided killing, as he stared he realized it wasn't the woman he had fucked, but her sister, one of the dim-witted triplets. It was the one that always hung on LeFou's arm. Rather poor taste on her part if you asked him.

"What do you want?" he growled out as the horse move under him towards the girl as if to trample her, at that point Gaston couldn't have cared less, but he would rather not deal with bloody remains on the grounds of his property.

The girl, Hennie, Helga, or whatever the hell her name was, just looked up with him with wide eyes. She stared with her mouth agape as she glanced from him to the horse. A dirty shawl covered her shoulders and when it drooped Gaston could see a torn dress and red finger streaks marking the pale skin. She quickly jerked the shawl back up, but not fast enough, red heat stained her cheeks as she glanced down at Achille's hooves which were as large as her head. Gaston narrowed his eyes at her and snorted, before digging his heels into Achille's flanks ready to take off.

The girl snapped out of whatever stupor she was in when he moved because she quickly reached a shaky hand and gripped his thigh.

"Wait!" She yelled, sounding desperate.

Gaston nearly roared in frustration, "What do you want woman?" Yesterday the girl had been more forward and insulting to his Belle, but alone with him she acted timid and dependent. Belle would never act so cowardly, he thought to himself with a disgusted look at the hand that still rested on the top of his thigh.

He felt her fingers flex as she stared up at him. Again, she just stared, Gaston inhaled deeply trying for patience before leaning down nose to nose. "What do you want, you _stupid girl?"__  
_

She jerked her hand from his thigh and he thought he saw her chin tremble as she stuttered. "C-Chester, stopped us from leaving. He said you want to see Le-LeFou."

"And where is LeFou?" He asked with mocking patience.

Her eyes seemed to chill as she took a step back, "he was making himself presentable. Chester hadn't known we stayed the night in one of the rooms and when he saw us he sent me out to stop you from leaving. Since- since you wanted to see LeFou and all."

Gaston smiled in the most unpleasant way possible and patted the girl on the head as if she was a slow child. "Then you've done what you came for, leave," she looked down at her feet and turned to go. "Wait, tell LeFou to meet me at my cabin, I have no want to wait in this frigid weather." Without waiting for a response he jerked Achille around to leave, throwing over his shoulder, "Oh, wait, Helga! I'd be much obliged is you would not come with him—I have no need of trash in my home. Also, give your sister my regards." Then he took off, Achille galloping with all his might around the back of the town's small buildings.

The girl stood there, with one single small tear running down her dirt-ridden cheek, "My name is Helen," she whispered to no one. Then, she walked back around the front of the tavern going inside to get LeFou.

* * *

Belle sat back into the giant piles of pillows that she had piled up to make a nest. A wonderful nest that she could sit back into and disappear into a land with magic and daring sword fights. Her nest was right in front of the small cozy fireplace that blazed with a heat that made Belle nearly melt with happiness.

For some reason she had woken up that morning feeling utterly rejuvenated and excited to start the day. She had meandered around the house for a while, dusting and washing the floors, but by noon, she was clear out of things that needed to be done. Now for the fun, she thought with a smile.

The book she had chosen was _One thousand and One Nights_, which was filled with Western and Southern Asia stories. She had always loved the book as a child and she found as an adult she wasn't any different.

She'd read through a few of the stories when she heard the thundering of hooves outside. The clipping of the hooves meeting the frozen dirt filled her with a bit of trepidation. She wasn't supposed to receive any visitors and she knew her father wouldn't want her to have any, especially unattended.

She sat huddled in her nest hoping that the hooves would just gallop past her home, but no they noticeably slowed. Belle sighed and set down her book, mentally cursing her misfortune. At this point it didn't matter who the visitor was, she was in the middle of reading about the seven voyages of Sinbad and she didn't like that she was being interrupted, oh well, no use for it now. She resigned herself from coming down from the magical seas that Sinbad had been exploring.

She stood up gingerly, and smoothed the escaped locks that had come out of her braid. Loud thumps alerted her that her intruder had mounted the steps and was nearing the door. By the pound of the knock she was guessing that the visitor was male.

Belle closed her eyes and prayed for some well-needed patience, because she was relatively positive of who was behind the door. She tip-toed over to the door, so she wouldn't give away her presence and peeked out the door telescope that her father had invented. Quite a brilliant invention, that one, it saved her having to open the door for visitors that were unwelcome.

This one was definitely unwelcome.

She groaned, but quickly covered her mouth choking off the sound. Maybe he hadn't heard and maybe he wouldn't know she was here.

She looked out the door telescope and observed Gaston. He was dressed supremely well today in a red printed waistcoat and matching jacket. She held her breath as she saw Gaston lean towards the door.

"Belle. Open up, Dear, I know you're there."

When she didn't move she watched irritation cloud his features twisting something handsome into something hideous.

"Belle, let me in or I'll break the door down."

She really didn't want to let him in. She was getting weary of his advances and was quickly running out of good excuses to use to get him to leave her alone. So, she stayed stubbornly quiet and still, watching him, testing him.

She saw him close his eyes and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he tipped his head back. He opened his eyes again and cursed, "Belle!" He hit the door with a clenched fist causing it to tremble and shack. Somewhat afraid he would tear the house down she ripped the door open before another blow could be made. She pasted a friendly smile on her face and said softly, "My, Gaston, I didn't hear you knock. Sorry for the wait."

He seemed utterly composed when she opened the door and that frightened her more than anything, that he could bring forth his anger and hide it the very next moment. He smiled dashingly and leaned against the door frame, but when she stood there and didn't invite him in he pushed his way through and she quickly backed out of his way unwilling to touch him.

His smile widened more as she backed away. "Ah, what sport, Belle. What have you been doing on this fine autumn day?"

"Reading," she said, hoping to disgust him with the thought of written language and get him out of the house. She walked over to the dining room table, fixing the roses that were in the center of the table even though they didn't need fixed. Gaston followed her close behind, like a shadow. "Would you like something to drink?"

He scowled at the pile of books on the floor beside her pillow nest, but chuckled when she mentioned the drink, "Oh, Darling, I don't think you keep a drink strong enough for me so I'll pass. But, there is something I would like."

She had turned from him to dust off non-existent dust on a shelf and she knew he was directly behind her, she heard the chair creak at the table as if in pain indicating that he had sat down. She turned and found him staring at her backside, she felt her cheeks heat and her anger rise as she stared down at him. When she turned around he didn't even pretend to have the decency to pretend to meet her eyes. Instead his eyes traveled as slowly as possible back up to her face, stopping in a few choice places.

"Something I would definitely like," he muttered.

Belle's palm itched to slap the leer off his face, but she knew if she did that, that it would make the situation far worse than she could ever imagine. So, instead she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I don't think that we have any of what you want here. You'll have to go back into town." She turned and marched off to the other side of the table, staring at him warily.

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his hard eyes. He lifted his legs and propped his feet on the table as if he was going to stay awhile. The action caused the tight leggings covered his legs to bulge with the actions of his muscles. He braced his hands behind his head, the epitome of confident man.

"You know, Belle. I've been thinking of our relationship and I believe I'm ready for the next step—I've been ready actually…" he paused and studied her through narrowed eyes, judging her reaction and when she didn't move he sighed. "Even if you're not."

Her breath stopped in her throat she couldn't seem to squeeze it out. He…He couldn't possibly mean what she thought he meant could he. He wouldn't try to force himself or anything else upon her. Yes, he'd threatened to the day before, but she hadn't believed he'd actually do it. But, by the determination that was on his face Belle suddenly wasn't so sure that he wouldn't try. She stopped herself from backing up anymore and said with a forced laugh. "You can't surely mean what I think you mean?" The question dangled in the air as he stared at her. His eyes staring into hers with such intensity that she felt uncomfortable.

He blinked breaking the unyielding connection and sighed changing the subject. "Belle, do you remember yesterday when I asked for your hand in marriage? Well, I meant that." He scrubbed a hand down his face and met her eyes, "I've never explained myself to you, but I will now. I want you. I promised myself that I would have you and I'll be damned if I'll disappoint myself." He stood up. His impressive size made Belle's moderate home seem even smaller, he towered over her like a hulking giant. He started his approach, slow and steady, like the hunter he was. "When you first came to town, I saw a beautiful girl standing in the street looking like she had nowhere to go. I would have approached you then, but," he grinned evilly, "you're father saw me and took you away. I haven't seen anyone as beautiful since. I've tried to get my feelings and my lust out from your grasp, but you seem to have ensnared me." He pushed the other table chair out of his path with the toe of his boot, never looking away from her retreating form.

"You'd make a great wife. A great mother. I can imagine it even now, you heavy with my seed, still beautiful. We would make strapping sons," he swallowed staring now at her chest which she felt was heaving with her efforts to breath. He was coming so close. She was going to run out of room by the time he reached her. "And I would try to fill you as often as possible." He took a whole stride forward, "Come here."

She knew what he wanted and what he was describing. Mr. Fehr had a private section in his bookstore that she had once stumbled into while browsing. Mr. Fehr had been soundly asleep and hadn't noticed her. The books in that small back room were certainly considered gentlemen's books. Belle had innocently opened one and had had the surprise of her life. It had detailed fully depicted pictures of many positions and acts. She had been shocked. Sure, she had had that awkward speech with her father about the subject of childbearing and the monthly woman's time since her mother hadn't been around to give it to her, but she had never imagined that the act could be so extensive.

Belle suddenly felt a moment of panicked humor. Books with pictures were probably the only thing Gaston could read. But, this was no situation to laugh in, so she didn't.

She tried playing dumb, even though she knew full well his intention, "But, Gaston, I don't think it's proper to talk of childbirth in a woman's presence," she tried laughing coyly but it came out desperate.

"You haven't been made a real woman, not yet. You need a man for that. But, I promise you that by tonight, I'll have you. If you want, there is a pastor ready in town prepared to marry us within a moment's notice. I had LeFou arrange it. I preferred to give you the option of marrying me properly before I took it any farther." He was within a mere six feet of her, too close for comfort, but she couldn't back up any farther due to the solid wall behind her. "Give me your word that you will marry me today and I'll give you until tonight to prepare yourself. But, if you say no…" He reached for the buckle on the front of his belt. "Then I'm afraid, I'm not above using force. You've strung me along too long to deny me now."

Belle stared wide-eyed at her pursuer. She was _never_ going to marry him. Not even if he forced himself upon her, he was insane if he believed any of this would win her affection. But, what else could she do besides say yes? She didn't want to, but what choice did she have. Gaston was going to force himself on her either now or tonight after the wedding. Hearing him talk about it as if it was his right to decide they were doing this made her sick and she felt as if she was going to pass out. Even if she said yes and bought herself some time, what would she do? She couldn't run away—her father had Phillip and Gaston would certainly find her on foot. She couldn't go to the town for help, no one would help her except perhaps Mr. Fehr, but that was entirely too much pressure on an old man.

Before she could think of a plausible way to get herself out of the situation, she heard herself whisper her answer, "no."

Gaston looked at her truly looked at her and said, "then pity for you."

Belle screamed when Gaston's hand gripped her waist and jerked her forward into his chest, he caught her wrists in the hand he had grabbed her with and held them behind her back, starring at her chest when it was involuntarily thrust out. His hard mouth came crashing down on hers cutting off her scream. She struggled as she felt Gaston's other hand on her throat, before it traveled down to the laces on the front of her dress.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Belle recoiled, disgusted and furious as Gaston followed with his mouth, pressing her into the wall. His hard grip tightened on her wrists making her gasp and open her mouth. Gaston took advantage and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Belle wrenched her wrist, but didn't let herself pull away, instead she leaned towards him—viciously biting down on his lip.

She tasted the metallic blood as he jerked away from her. She kicked at his shins and tried to aim for his groin, but he held her so closely and his stronger legs braced around hers, blocking any wound she tried to inflict. She felt the vibrations of his chest as he laughed at her efforts. He had at least released the half undone laces to reach up to his lip to check for the seriousness of injury.

"My, my, my…" he chuckled as looked at the blood that was on his fingers, "How lively you are—you'll be perfect underneath me!"

She was fighting full-heartedly and he was taking his time almost leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. But, when she bit him the second time he tried to kiss her, he didn't laugh. He raised his hand and gripped her chin, holding her face away from his. He leaned down to her earlobe and bit.

"You bite me, Belle, all you want. Because, I'll just bite you back." He let her face go to smooth her hair down, then reaching back to the bow that she had used to tie her braid. He undid it with a quick hand, bringing the long strands over her shoulder, in a way he liked. As he focused on this task, Belle looked around the room wildly for a solution.

There were chairs, firewood, and books. Anything could really be a weapon as long as she could reach it and bludgeon him with it. But, he seemed perfectly content to hold her hands behind her back and simply use one hand. She had to get out of his bruising grip. His one hand held her two wrists so easily, that Belle felt ashamed at how meager her strength was against him.

She flinched as she felt him caressing her hair down over her shoulder to her breast, lingering on the latter. She felt her heart thump against her chest as she breathed heavily, her eyes filled with tears as he so casually lifted her against the wall and braced her there with his lower half. Thankfully, her skirt created a barrier, but Belle knew that it would be no match if Gaston decided to raise it.

His finger quickly finished the unlacing, gripped the neck of the fabric and jerked. Belle thanked her father silently for splurging on this particular dress. It was a thick warm fabric that was held by the lacing in the front, _but_ also a sturdy button at the nape of her neck. She had a bit of time before he found the button.

"Please… Gaston. D-don't do this." She wanted him to let her go as easily as possible. She didn't want him angry or upset with the situation, because she knew if he was angry there would be no stopping him. She just needed to prove to him how wrong this all was. She really didn't think he'd see the sense in it, but what else was she to do?

His fingers traced over her breast through her dress as he looked over her front looking for a lace that was still connected.

"You have refused me one too many times. I told you the consequences, but you still chose the way of force. I'm sorry that you won't enjoy this—our first time. It could be pleasurable to the both of us if you would just be agreeable."

"Gaston…" She knew she sounded weak, but if he would just soften towards her and give up his steel grip. A single tear fell down her cheek, welling over.

He leaned down, having to hunch, and pressed a damp kiss to her throat. "I love how you say my name," he whispered into her skin.

She closed her eyes and stopped fighting for a moment. A small hope started to form in the back of her mind as she thought of a new plan. A better plan. Gaston's hand roamed down to her backside before sliding up behind her bound wrists, he was looking for buttons, she realized. It wouldn't take him long to find it.

"Gaston," she whispered his name, but she tried to sound seductive even though she was scared out of her wits. "I-I don't want to deny you—but… what will the town think?" She knew his image and fame was everything to him, so she added, "being with me is a danger to your reputation. The town hates me… What if, they decide to hate you too?" She nearly choked at her own words. There wasn't a possible way that he would actually believe her, she hadn't sounded sincere at all.

He stilled, and leaned back a bit, staring into her eyes. She tried to smile, but it turned into a shaky grimace. "Oh, Belle," he said, "that's why you've denied me all this time? I wish I would have known, I would have put your fears to rest long ago." He smiled down at her, trying to calm her, "If anything, being with me will raise _your _status, not diminish mine." He looked at her almost lovingly.

He was more conceited than she thought if he actually bought that, but Belle wasn't going to ask questions. His hand had stopped searching for a moment and was now massaging her lower back. How could he be so… _calm, _especially in a situation like this? His actions were sickeningly loving.

She closed her eyes and looked down at his wrinkled cravat as if bashful and asked, "are you sure?"

"Yes." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head and trailed down his lips down to the top of her forehead.

She tried not to throw up as she breathed out, "than…than I want to enjoy it. My first time—that is."

"Then you shall," he bent to kiss the corner of her mouth and she didn't bite him this time, she let him do it. She felt him resume his search for the button on her back. "I must admit, I'm very pleased to be your first. Have you—"

She interrupted him, she didn't want to speak any more than she had too. "My dress didn't come off, because there's a button in the back. It's strong enough that you'll need both hands to undo it."

He found the button easily after he knew its place and he tried to open it one-handed. Which, ironically hadn't been a lie, you really did need two hands to undo the button. After a few seconds of jerking on the button, Belle saw his rising frustration.

To calm him down and to free herself she said, "I'll undo it." If he didn't let go and ripped the button off than her plan would be soiled. She couldn't let that happen, so she lightly tried to pry her wrists free.

He obviously didn't want to let her go, despite her confession of denying him for his own sake. She looked up at him and waited for his judgment to fall, when suddenly he let go, but watched her carefully.

Blood rushed back to her very thankful hands as she squeezed her fist trying to revive circulation. But, just because he let go didn't mean he backed up, he still stood close. She raised her arms to the back of her neck, pretending to struggle with the button. "Can you back up a bit, Gaston? I'm too close to the wall to get my hands on the button."

He didn't move but he did move his lower body away which made her sigh in relief, but the sigh was cut off by the gruff command to turn around. Her eyes jerked up to his as she tried to tamp down the rising worry, this wasn't going in the way she had needed it to.

He looked down at her while she refused to move and then he growled, grabbing her by the arm and turning her around. With both hands free he undid the button and Belle felt the sag of her dress. It wasn't enough to make the dress fall off, but it was enough to make her very very nervous. She quickly turned herself around again before Gaston could take advantage of the dress and take it off of her.

He braced his hands beside her head caging her in. He was looking at the gaping fabric. From his height and angle he had a clear view of the top of her breasts. She was very thankful that she hadn't bypassed the chemise, at least she had that small favor. But, she was upset that she hadn't put on her corset.

She swallowed the lump of fear that had once again arisen. She found herself gripping the gown to keep it on her. She didn't want Gaston to see anything, even though he was obviously wanting and trying too.

She tilted her head towards him in a sudden show of bravado, which wasn't near anything she was really feeling. "I would rather be lying down, I think."

He smiled that dashing smile that made all the women in town swoon, but made her physically sick. He stepped back once again, leaving about two feet of space between their bodies. Gaston was no longer looking at her face and she didn't think he had since her gown had loosened. He grabbed one of her wrists and was heading towards the small flight of stairs that was at the front of the small house. But, she dug her feet into the wooden floorboards and she saw him still. This time when he turned, his smile had none of the humor it had previously shown.

"_Belle_," he said her name like a warning, "I am tiring of your games. If you think to deceive me by wasting time, it will not work. I have all the time in the world, but you I'm afraid do not. Now, come," he once again resumed the walk towards the stairs. Forcibly pulling her along this time.

She racked her mind, trying to think of a way to get him over near the fireplace. "But, Gaston!" Her voice ended in a yell as he pulled harder, making her fall into his chest, she felt _him_ against her and she said in a panicked rush, "it's cold upstairs. Wouldn't you rather be by the fire? My-my pillows and blankets are already there."

Belle watched as he closed his eyes as if to gather his patience. Then she swore she heard him utter something about the stupidity of women, but then his whole demeanor changed and a glint came to his eyes. "Fine, Belle, you want the fire you can have the fire," she started towards the fireplace relieved, but he raised his hand to stop her, "but you have to take off your gown first." He let go of her wrist and watched her expectantly waiting for her to do his bidding.

Belle felt her heart stop, there was nothing underneath her gown but her chemise and that was almost so shear she might as well be naked after all. She glanced towards the fireplace judging the distance. If she could get to the poker that was still in the fire, it would be a good enough weapon to keep him away from her. But, Gaston was watching and he saw her glance and immediately knew of her intention to run.

He reached for her wrist again but she lunged out-of-the-way, but he immediately followed up with a step towards her, his hands outstretched and anger in his eyes. She dodged a large palm and ran for the fire.

His legs were long and his strides longer, he caught up before she could reach the poker. He was cursing as he gripped the thick fabric of her sagging gown and jerked. Her legs jerked out from underneath her and she landed on the soft pillows that were in front of the fire. He grabbed her hips and flipped her over in a tangle of fabric and pillows. She was fighting harder than she had before with fists, slaps, and kicks. Her dress had come down around her waist during the fight and was hindering her arms. She screamed as Gaston fell on top of her. He rose over her like an indomitable wave and looked down at her with burning eyes as his nostrils flared.

He grabbed at her flailing hands, "did you honestly think running would work?" he snarled. "You will never get away from me, you will love me as I _love_ you. You will be my wife, in name, in spirit, and in body." He ground himself against her and leaned into her face, "You're mine. Starting now" He reached for the fastenings of his breeches.

She continued to fight but he only laughed and grabbed the neck of the gown and jerked. This time it worked. Her chemise-clad chest became exposed to the air and his gaze. He stilled and stared, and then he slowly lowered one hand to her skin as if in wonder. Belle looked towards the fire and saw the poker. She exploded into motion, taking a deep breath and ramming her knee into the girth between Gaston's legs and jerking her arm out with unmatched determination and hitting him in the face.

He choked from the blow to his groin and covered himself as he let go of her other wrist as she pummeled his face with her fists. He quickly swung off of her to protect himself. She rolled and reached for the poker, her fingertips touching the end and pushing it ever so slightly out-of-the-way.

She stretched, her muscles cramping and strained as Gaston rose up from his huddled position. He was groaning in intense pain, but the pain was fading and fury was starting to replace it.

She pushed herself forward with her toes and her hand clenched around the handle. She jerked it out of the hot fire and stumbled to her feet, the dress weighing her down and making her clumsy. She held the poker away from herself pointing it at Gaston and watched as the sharp tip burned a bright red.

Gaston had also risen to his feet, but he was cupping himself and a scowl darkened his face. He wasn't laughing anymore. "_Belle," _he growled. Then he lunged.

Belle pulled the poker back from stabbing him, but then she raised it above her head and swung with all her might.

* * *

Belle huddled in a rocking chair that she had pulled to set near a window. The cool breeze passed through the open window and calmed her. Her arms were shaking and her breath was coming out in pants and her eyes were streaming tears down her face.

She had fixed her presence physically, her dress was now in place, but emotionally it was just sinking in. That and the fact that Gaston was still lying on the floor as if asleep was upsetting. She had hit him hard enough to knock him out. She felt guilty for her actions, but what else was she to do? She smoothed a hand over her face and tried to calm her tears. Unconscious, he was pure dead weight and it wasn't physically possible for her to move him outside, so she'd at least feel better when he woke up. Should she go get a healer from the town? They already hated her and they would surely hate her more if they found out she had fallen the town hero even though it had been his fault.

She had looked at him just enough to make sure that he wasn't going to die before retreating as far as she could on the other side of the room where she would still be able to watch him. His eye was blackening from where she had hit him and his mouth was bleeding from where she had bit him and he had a burned gash from where she had hit him with the poker.

What if she had caused all this? What if she, Belle, had been the one that was in the wrong. Maybe Gaston was really a nice person at heart and Belle was the one to go out of line. What if Gaston dies, because of her? What if she's the horrible one? Doubt after doubt plagued her as she stared at Gaston. Maybe she had led him to the belief that they could be together. Oh, she thought as a sob clogged her throat, it was all her fault. She cupped a hand over her mouth and tried not to panic.

Belle could hear her heart beat hammering madly—no. No, that wasn't her heart beat she realized. She glanced outside, and was nearly blinded by the mid-day sun, it was a horse's hooves. They were coming quick and fast towards the house. She stared hard outside, as she watched the edge of the forest.

She stood up abruptly when she saw Philippe galloping towards the small stable with the invention trailing behind him. She gasped when she realized something, very, very important. Her father was nowhere in sight.

* * *

**Author: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I hope you like it so far- Belle will be introduced to the Beast very, very soon. Thanks for the reading and don't forget to review:)**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Belle stumbled down the steps and limped as quickly as possible to Philippe. Her face was still tear-streaked and her body was sore in muscles she didn't even know could be sore. She let out a cry when she twisted her ankle in her haste, but didn't let herself stop. Philippe was nudging the stable door and kicking it with its hoof when she finally reached him.

"Philippe," she whispered brokenly. The gentle horse had cuts on his hind legs and when Belle peered closer, gently probing the flesh around the wound, she saw that they weren't cuts, but teeth marks. What had happened to him? And to her father? She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. He could have taken a wrong turn, been attacked by thieves or animals.

She had to find him.

It didn't matter where he was or what had happened to him, but she was going to find him. He was the only person she had and she wasn't willing to lose him, not now and probably not ever.

Luckily the bites weren't deep and just had to be cleaned and she didn't see any other injuries at least not on the outside. Belle unhooked the cart with the invention in it and left it outside as she gripped the leather reins to lead Philippe into the stable so that he could drink from the water barrel that they kept. As Philippe greedily drank, Belle cleaned the wounds. They were still bleeding a bit, so she pressed a clean cloth to them until the bleeding was staunched and no longer a danger. By the time she had finished she was fully ready to just lurch into the forest without a second thought, but Belle knew that more had to be done for Philippe or he wouldn't be able to support the journey. So, biting her lip and going as fast as she could, she stripped him of his saddle and rubbed him down with a brush.

There, he was ready. Belle headed towards the house to retreive a shawl and blanket, she had forgotten a coat in a rush to get to Philippe. She still limped, but over the overwhelming worry for her father she had only briefly forgot about _why_ she was limping.

Gaston. He was still in the house.

She stilled on her porch with her hand on the doorknob and felt her breath catch. What if he had woken up? Belle heard her breath wheeze out of her and she felt tears well in her eyes as she leaned towards the door, her right ear pressed against the cool wood as she concentrated. She couldn't hear a thing.

She had to risk it, she turned to her right, making sure that when she opened the door a little bit he wouldn't be able to see her from the inside—just as a precaution. Her fingers turned white around the knob as she slowly pushed down, unlatching it. She pulled ever-so-slightly. The door opened and… nothing. She slowly leaned over and peered in. Gaston was still unconscious in front of the fire.

She had never sobbed so much in one day, but she wanted to sob right then in relief. She ran inside, putting her weight on her toes as she flew up the stairs, she knew just the right places to step. Gaston's indecent form stayed prone in front of the fire, the only sign of life was the sound of his deep breaths. She grabbed the shawl from her room and a blanket from her father's, because her blankets where still in front of the fire and there was no way she was getting that close to him.

Bolting back down the stairs she turned and did her best to ignore _him_ as she ran the opposite way from the door—to the kitchen. She grabbed a handkerchief and shoved some bread a cheese into it before tightly knotting it. Hopefully water would be easy to find in the forest. With all of her necessities, Belle made her way towards the door, stopping to grab a satchel that hung on a hook on the wall. She shoved her loot inside and turned, and then she heard a pained groan.

She nearly dropped her satchel as her eyes widened as she stared at Gaston. He didn't move. Belle took quiet steps to the door, never taking her eyes from him. She reached and opened it and as she made her way out, she saw movement.

She didn't know if it was Gaston or just some fluke and quite frankly she didn't care. She ran down the porch stairs and reached the stable, faster than she had ever thought she could. She threw her shawl over her shoulders, blocking her from the cold she hadn't noticed when she'd been outside before—maybe it wasn't from being outside, maybe this chill she was feeling was from Gaston himself.

She didn't bother to put the saddle back on, she needed to find her father and escape the man in the house, she hauled herself onto the horse, swinging one leg over rather painfully due to her bruises.

Then they were off towards the forest. Her satchel thumped against her side as Philippe galloped towards the forest, but one more bolt of fear flew through Belle as she heard a roar of rage behind her.

She gasped and pressed on Philippe, going faster than her father had ever allowed her, to get away from Gaston and to find the one man who would make her forget.

* * *

Belle was walking beside Philippe now, the fear that Gaston might have followed was now only a small one. Her fear had chased her into the depths of the forest, so far that she couldn't recognize anything and she could barely make out the sky. It was dark, so dark, only an occasional light could be made out through the trees and autumn leaves. She could tell though that it was nearing sundown and that she wouldn't be able to see at all in a few hours.

She had gotten off of Philippe because she was scared the wounds might reopen and bleed after their race. Nothing could be heard. Not a bird, not a rustle, no sounds at all, just Philippe breaths and steps. Whatever creature or creatures that had attacked Philippe and most likely her father as well were no longer there and were of no bother to them now.

They wandered for hours. Belle followed the horse's lead whenever it chose a path, because she had nothing else to lose. The horse was her best bet.

She talked to fill the silence. "Philippe, I remember when my father first brought you home. You were just a gangly little fowl!" Belle chuckled as she glanced at the horse. "That was when Mother was alive, my how time flies. It was so long ago, yet it seems like mere days. As Father may have told you, well, he probably hasn't, I don't think he talks to horses like I do, but if he did you would know that he loved her very much. I don't know if I've ever seen such a love before, not even in fairytales. Sure, the prince always saves the princess and then everyone is happy, which is fine and all, but Father's and Mother's love was more than that—is still more than that, despite the death that separates them. Oh, I don't know how to explain it."

Philippe nodded his head as if he was actually listening and nudged the back of her head with his snout. She smiled and patted him before continuing, "Mother was strong of an emotional heart, but her physical strength wasn't quite as strong. But, if they would have been equal, she would probably outlived Mother Nature with her stubbornness. My mother had always yearned for a child. So, when I came along, you can imagine how happy they were." Philippe added his thoughts by nodding. "Well, after a few years, my mother wanted to try for a boy… it wasn't meant to be. My brother was born, but didn't live past the first night. One of the only times my father ever cried. My mother though, no, she didn't cry and I think that is what killed her. She was so sad, but instead of letting it out, she held onto it and refused anyone who tried to take it from her…" Belle's sigh was filled with sadness. "Well, that's when my father bought you, from a local farmer at our old village. He was trying to cheer Mother up. I still remember her face when she came out and you were there, all young and spry. You made her smile, it was small but it was there. She named you after him you know, my brother.

"She loved horses, loved to ride them. She died though before she got to try you though. Do you remember how she trained you? She spent hours with you. I think that's why she named you what she did, after him, so that she could spend time with him in a way, but we'll never know for sure." Belle patted Philippe's neck. "I hope the story of your namesake doesn't bother you too much, I know some don't like to be named after others. But, I also know that most don't talk to horses and tell them about beloved memories, no matter how sad." She shook her head, "What can I say, the town's people were right about me, I'm pretty strange."

Philippe snorted.

Belle chattered on some more, more about her mother, enjoying going over details about her mother that she had missed before. But, deep down she was just trying to not think of her father. Or Gaston. She wouldn't fathom the notion that something else might have happened to him other than a slight accident of getting lost. She couldn't think any more negative than that.

The forest was nearly dark now, Belle stopped talking and stopped Philippe at the same time and quickly climbed onto him. "Sorry, Philippe, your feet are better equipped to walk without being able to see."

They traveled on and on the inside Belle was scared. It was too quiet, as if there was a predator out and all of the animals knew that they should avoid every possible sound.

Eventually, Belle's eyelids started to droop. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face when she held it up and Philippe's slow gait made the ride easy and comfortable. The only things that were keeping her up were her bruises which she was thankful for, because they kept her awake. Belle wanted to yell to see if her father could hear, but for some reason that idea, seemed extremely dangerous. Just when she was about to give up and just start screaming for her father, convinced that she should have started it hours ago, thunder struck the sky, the lightning soon followed. Then another and another. All the light made the trees ahead of her visible and Belle swore she saw something a little farther ahead. Encouraged by hope and a fear that rain would start to pour down on her. She goaded Philippe into speeding up, raindrops fell down upon her head, making her hair heavy against the back of her neck. The rain quickly got worse as she felt it pelting her face and shawl, water streamed into her eyes, but she pressed on to whatever she had seen, it had to be there whatever it was, it had to be.

They sped towards the trees in front of them, deftly darting between them into a clearing. Belle looked around stunned, not really being able to see around them, but she couldn't see any trees. How far had they traveled? She had never thought about what she would do when she reached the end of the forest. She had certainly never thought that the forest would end so abruptly.

The rain pounded her battered body, in a way feeling like a rather painful massage. Belle tightened her thighs on Philippe, urging him from where they had stopped. They crept forward weary and fearful.

Belle gasped and her mouth fell open. The closer she got the more astounded she was. There was a castle. A huge castle. How had she never heard of it before, surely she should have come across something in the numerous books she'd read about the town history. Wouldn't someone have written about a black castle that blended in with the night as if it was made of it? If they wouldn't have approached any closer and turned around, Belle wouldn't have even known it was there.

It had a gate that towered dozens of feet over her, even on a horse. She quickly slowed Philippe as they got to the gate, getting off of him. Her father could be inside. It was a safe bet for a man to take shelter, especially with weather like this. If he wasn't inside, she could still take shelter, there would be no finding him at night in the forest, definitely not during a storm.

So, she approached the barrier and gripped the think bars. In the middle, a little above eye level for her, there was a crest. It had a lion with some other animal that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Looking past the gate to the castle, she couldn't help but feel even smaller than ever. It was mountainous. Blacker than the night with a sinister overshadow, it's towers stretched towards the sky like offering and the land in front of the castle was completely barren.

Belle looked on the side of the gate and saw the massive barrier that protected the castles outskirts from invaders. It must have stretched all the way around the castle and its entirety. She was breathless. Would her father have dared enter something so dangerous looking, the forest looked like a brisk walk through a meadow compared to this place.

Philippe was uneasy, the only thing keeping him there was Belle's hold on the reins. He kept dancing away from the gate and tugging.

Belle gave a feeble tug on the iron gate, not expecting it to do anything but trying nonetheless, and had to jump back when it swung open in a wide arc, creaking with an old effort. She stilled, but steeled herself and pulled Philippe forward, "Come on, boy. They may have shelter for you."

She got the reluctant horse inside, but felt like leaving herself. This place dwarfed her and made her feel puny. Behind them, the gate closed with a final bang and she was sure that if she was to try and open it again, it wouldn't be quite as easy as it had seemed the first time.

The dark barren land was just dirt, the grass—if there had been any—had disappeared long ago by the looks of it. Belle noticed something strange. When she had entered, it had stopped raining, which was weird in itself, but she could still hear the rain and could see the lightning she just couldn't feel it. It was as if the castle was keeping her from the rain.

Belle hurried her steps, going the long distance to the dozens of steps that lead to the door. She left Philippe at the bottom of the stairs, he was smart enough to find shelter, she just wished there was grass for him to graze.

When she finally reached the door she was panting. Her day had just had too much excitement and her body was having problems keeping up with her. She walked underneath the huge alcove that shadowed the door and she found that the tall door was open just the slightest. Just enough for her to squeeze through. She walked up to it and with one deep breath she pushed herself in, praying her father would be inside to greet her.

* * *

"Father?" Belle only spoke, but the words echoed throughout the high-ceiling hallway. She had been searching for a while or at least that's what she thought. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours and it would have felt the same to her.

There was no sign of her father, but there were many candles light along the hallways, the flames flicking the stone hallways.

She had walked through the entrance and had found herself in an extravagant hallway with tapestries that were as tall as the ceiling. There had been a room a little ways off not much smaller than the foyer and it had had treasures and one single chair in front of the fire. She had yelled for her father, but there was no answer.

She was now on the second floor, the torch that she had grabbed from one of the walls was creating monstrous shadows to flicker around her.

"Hello?"

He had to be here, he just had to. Even if he was, how was she supposed to find him in a castle that was larger than the town?

The castle was scary, but not so scary that she was willing to walk away. She felt an eerie feeling creep down her spine, she felt like she was being watched. She was being caressed by eyes that she couldn't see. She quickened her pace and turned left at the next opportunity, she had decided to make all left turns, so that it would be easier to find her way back. If she didn't take precautions like this than her father wouldn't be the only one who was missing.

Just as Belle was preparing to make another left she heard whispering behind her. She whipped around and saw a glint of movement at the other end of the hallway that she had just walked down. Not even hesitating she screamed "Wait!" The shimmer danced off as she raced towards it, raising her skirt above her feet so she could run faster—holding her torch in the other hand.

"Wait please," she whispered, winded as she took a quick right where the shimmer had disappeared into. She spotted it again. It was just a shadow but it was enough for her, she once again gave chase.

It led her up two different flights of stairs, one set of the stairs had been thick stone that had led up for miles, but the second flight had been even taller and steep. The second flight had been in an enclosed hallway, curling around a tower and leading towards the top. Belle reached the top and leaned against the wooden door that blocked her path.

"Oh, no," she coughed, "open the door! I just want to find my father!"

Behind the door she heard muffled voices. Belle leaned closer, but couldn't hear anything specific. Maybe it was her father. She stared at the thick door, its black lock was the size of her head and there wasn't a way for her to get inside. She tried using her fingernails to pick the lock, all the while speaking to her father through the door even if he wasn't really there. The effort just left her nails broken and bleeding.

"Father, if you're in there, don't worry. It will… it will just take me a bit."

She beat her fists on the door in desperation, crying out with anger and frustration. She tried testing the stones beside the door, pushing and pulling, searching for a hidden key or latch, anything. There had to be a reason that she had been led up these stairs. Belle slumped against the door, of course there wasn't a reason. She had just been desperate and imagined everything from the start, there had been no movement for her to come here, and there had been no voices behind the door, she had just been stupid.

Just as she turned and was about to make her way back down the steps, there was a squeak behind her. When she looked back she found the door open before her. Belle wasn't going to ask questions.

It was pitch black inside, she wouldn't have been able to see movement inside even if there was any. She held her torch up against the dense darkness. The light from her torch was flickering and reaching towards the darkness as if trying to make a path. She pushed her way in, halfway afraid that her torch would be extinguished, but it burned all the brighter. It smelled of must and mold, like rains had invaded even this impressive castle.

There was hay across the floors, and spider webs in every available space, she had to push them out of her way to go further. She was in a hallway and along the hallway were chambers with barred doors. They were cells.

"Father?"

The door beside her shook from an impact which made her jump back and she heard a groan from the inside, "_Belle?_"

"Oh, Father!" It was him, she rushed forward. The bars on the door were at eye-level for her, but she couldn't see inside the cell due to darkness. His voice had been broken and painful to hear. Thank god, she had found him. "Father, come to the bars, I can't see you. Are you hurt?" She laid the torch down, hoping that the light didn't sputter out. She ran her hands over the lock, it was same as the entrance door, but she didn't know how that one had opened, it just had.

Her father didn't come, "No, Belle. Leave—leave now. You must go. There isn't a minute to lose. He will find—"

"No, I have to get you out of here!" She jerked on the lock futilely, then bent down for a rock or something hard to break the lock.

"No, you mustn't stay here. There's something dark here something dangerous, just leave me here!" Her father continued to try to make her leave as she searched for a rock, her hands ran over the floor blindly touching dirt and spiders. Her father sounded scared and hurried. But, Belle didn't know the reason why until she heard her fire suddenly be extinguished with a sizzle behind her.

Belle stilled, on her hands and knees, and heard a viscous growl behind her neck. She felt a chill go down her spine followed by the warm breath of a beast.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ok, I'm sure you're happy to know that the next chapter will definitely have Belle and the Beast together and actually conversing! Anywho, I am interested to start more rated M fanfics like this one of other Disney movies, such as The Little Mermaid or Tarzan, but I just can't decide which Disney movie to pick, so if you could give me the titles of some Disney movies (they don't have to be out of the 2 I mentioned) that you would like to read like this one, leave it in the reviews:) And don't forget to review this story, Dearies!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Belle shot to her feet, in the darkness she tripped and nearly fell. She felt a whisper of a touch upon her back. She gasped and lurched away, she leaned against the safety of her father's cell door.

"Who is it? Show yourself!" She gripped the grooves in the door, trying not to scream. The darkness was like a fog around her clogging her throat. She had had no idea how much her torch had lit the room, but with its absence she couldn't even see herself if she looked down.

There was definitely a presence in the room with her. She couldn't see it; she just knew it was there.

Laughter. A dark chuckle. Whatever was here with her was laughing.

She'd never heard a scarier sound in all of her life.

It was deep and growled as if it suffered from rare use. Then more sounds came from whatever it was and Belle sunk farther into the soft wood of the door. She realized that they weren't just sounds at all, that they were words.

"I doubt, Beauty, that you want to see me."

Beauty? How could it possibly tell if she was attractive or not. It was blacker than black, nothing human should be able to see.

"What?" She asked in confusion.

"Very well," more laughter, "I'm sure I'll enjoy your screams. Lumiere!"

"_Yes?"_ The new voice was heavily accented and so thick it was almost as unrecognizable as the thing's.

"Light the dungeons!"

"_Of course, Sire." _

Fire burst forth from the torches that lined the wall and Belle ducked away from the boisterous flame that erupted near her head. She looked down the hallway and saw that there were many other cells, but she didn't look for long she was too scared of what was on her other side to keep her back on him.

She slowly turned her head, but didn't see anything.

"…Hello?" she whispered.

A low growl met her. She swallowed her fear and stared into the only shadowed corner that was in the chamber and she nearly jumped when to blue eyes met her stare. The eyes were staring unblinkingly at her and Belle thought for a second that the pupils were slit like a cat's, but no cat was that tall.

"Come…Come into the light." She sounded more confident than she felt.

It stared at her and blinked. "As you wish… Beauty."

She stared in amazement as she saw the eyes float higher in the darkness. The thing had been crouched down before and had been tall, but now, at full height, Belle feared she was against a giant like in one of her books.

Shadows shifted in the corner and then a _paw_ emerged, clawed and like an animals, but human in a strange way. She followed the paw with her widening eyes and she felt her mouth go slack with shock as a furred muscled leg was thrust into the light. Claws dug into the floor and Belle couldn't contain the sound that escaped her as the whole creature came into view. It had horns.

Horns. Large, sharp, deadly horns that gleamed to the point that she could see herself in them. She was so distracted by the beast that she didn't notice his quick approach.

In two mere strides he was standing in front of her. She was shaking badly and not being able to take her eyes away from him. She only came up to it's chest which she stared at in fear and awe. Brown fur, black in some places covered his whole body, even the fearsome face and snout. She had never actually believed in were creatures before now.

One clawed hand came up and tilted her face up with one of it's talons. She found herself looking into cold eyes. One talon scraped up the side of her face, not cutting her skin, but stinging, and flicked a hair out of her eyes.

That was when her father attacked.

That is also when she realized that the beast had controlled his anger when he showed himself to her. Because when her father touched him, his eyes contorted with a rage so violent it was as if it was a dam trying to hold back the pacific ocean. Her scream of terror for her father mixed with the furious bellow of the Beast.

* * *

Large brown eyes stared into his. Fearful, absolutely, but she hadn't run away screaming yet. She was even more impressive in the light, he could see perfectly in the night but colors were distorted, and now with the fire illuminating her skin she was simply breathtaking. He didn't realize his hand had risen until he saw the pale pink streak it had left on her face. He'd scratched her, that was as gentle as he could be.

She still hadn't run. Perhaps, she was mental, he thought to himself. No sane person would stay and let them touch them. Just his luck, to get a woman who was half-witted as his almighty savior. At least she was pretty.

He touched her cheek again, he almost closed his eyes, it had been so long since he had touched a woman's flesh and felt the softness of her skin.

Red dots flashed before his eyes as he felt a sudden pain in his shoulder. The beast that controlled him so well had vanished for the smallest bit of time, but now it was back with a vengeance, he felt common sense ebb away as rage took over.

He turned on the old man and saw his arms extended through the bars of his cell, he was holding a piece of splintered wood, now bloody and dull. Beast roared and charged at the man.

"Belle! Go, get away!"

Beast's horned head caught one of the man's arms breaking the frail bone instantly on impact, he clawed the door and ripped the iron lock off with a single swipe.

The old man yelled. It was time for him to die as planned.

"Father, no!"

Hands gripped the fabric of his cloak and jerked roughly, he swatted at the troublesome girl as if she were an insect. She quickly left the breadth of his claws.

Beast shouldered the door open with an angry grunt, the old man was hunched over clutching his arm, he once again screamed out for his daughter, but Beast cut him off by gripping the man by his collar and walking him to the high bared window that was in the cell.

"Do you have any idea, why I keep the dungeons in the highest tower rather than in the lowest level?" he growled. "No, well, let me shed some light on the subject. If a prisoner tries to climb out the window they would ultimately fall to a quite painful death. It would take you forever to fall and," Beast grunted as he gave a savage jerk and easily ripped the bars from the window and held the man up so he could see his future. "There are sharpened rocks at the bottom to break your fall. Do you see them? I said, do you see them?" He shook the man like a doll as he roared.

"Run, Belle." Was all the pitiful fool could whisper in his pain.

"Maybe you should see the rocks personally. Mind you, maybe you'll be lucky and not die on impact, maybe you will simply be impaled on a pike and slowly die. Well, we shall see!" He held the man high and would have flung him if the woman, this Belle, would not have grabbed his other arm, the arm that the old man had injured.

"Put him down."

Beast froze. Irritation boiled in his blood, wanting to punish the man and not understanding why he had stopped.

"Stop," she spoke determinedly. He was not impressed.

He didn't know why he did it, but he did, he asked, "Why." He didn't say it like a question, he was ruler here and she would better know it.

"You are willing to kill a defenseless old man for scratching your arm? That is nothing compared to what you have done to him. He was merely trying to defend me from you." Her voice trembled angrily, "Look at him, you've broken his arm. He already looked injured before you attacked him, is that not enough."

Beast snorted. "There was no need for him to defend you, so I grant him no excuse. I had no intention of harming you... then."

"You may have known that there was no need for him to be defensive, but he certainly didn't and quite frankly neither did I, now unhand my father. Now."

Beast looked down at the woman who gripped his arm, then up at the purple-faced man.

"No," he said.

"But, I-"

"I said no, you daft girl!" he roared.

She narrowed her worried eyes and whispered fearful, "I would give you something in return. But, I have nothing to give."

He didn't want anything but the curse broken…but, she was a woman. A woman is what he needed to break this damnable curse.

"Let us make a deal, Beauty," he said as he lowered the old man to the floor so that he could get air into his lungs.

The woman tried to fling herself on the other side of him to cover her father protectively, but he pushed her back. She looked at him and he swore he saw rage in her pretty eyes as if she would hit him without much effort. Very curious.

"What- What kind of deal?" she asked her eyes still on her father's crumpled form.

"I want you."

Her eyes widened and her breath caught. "What," she whispered brokenly.

"Take his place and stay here with me. Forever."

She looked as if she were going to cry, and he felt her tremble against his hand which was holding her back. She took a deep breath in and said in a breathless whisper, "Oh, Papa, I love you…" she turned to him then and closed her eyes. "I'll…I will take his place."

Beast was shocked, but he wasn't going to waste time, "Done."

He pushed her so she wouldn't throw herself on her father and grabbed the old man by the collar once again. He dragged the broken man out of the dungeons down the flights of stairs and never heard Belle's desperate cry of "wait!"

The old man was quivering in his hands and likely in so much pain that he could barely function. Beast tore through the foyer out into the open courtyard, where the moon was still shining high in the sky. He made his way to the stables and through the man into the servant carriage. The carriage awoke with the spirits of the horses that the castle used to have. It sped away already knowing where to take the man.

Beast stood in the courtyard watching the carriage rattle away. The only thing that remained of her father was the scent of his blood which still lingered in the air. He'd probably die of infection before he even reached the village. Not that the beast cared, at the moment all he was thinking of was himself. He looked up at the highest tower and saw through the night to the shadow of a beautiful girl of whom he now owned.

"Let her be the one."

* * *

**Note from the procrastinating author: Sorry that this chapter is so short and it took so long to upload, but have no fear the ninth chapter is nearly here (it tis half written and involves a very naughty Beast) Anywho, hoped you liked this chapter! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews :) and also for all the cool suggestions for what stories you would like to see. Thanks to the suggestions that you have so willingly given me, a new idea has sprouted into my head like a weed and I will write about it. It is a Disney movie, but I don't want to mention which one, because if it doesn't turn out I don't want to disappoint anyone. Don't forget to reveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii iiiwwwww! The box is right below, I know ya wanna!**

**P.S.: CHAPTER 8 WON'T TAKE AS LONG TO UPLOAD, I PROMISE. **


	9. Chapter 9

"Come with me."

"…but I thought—"

"I told you to come and you will do so at once!"

He strolled away without checking to see if she followed, she'd be even dumber than he thought if she tried to get away.

The girl, this Belle as the old cripple had called her, scrambled to her feet and wiped her tears away with the back of her wrist when he had reentered the room. He could hear her now trying to control her quivering breaths and appear strong. She was not strong and he knew it.

"You will be staying here with me for quite some time, so I might as well give you a decent room. If you have need for something, do not hesitate to ask the servants, they will help you in all your needs for they have nothing else to do."

He hurried along listening to the soft swish of her dress behind him as she hurried to keep up with his strides. It was silent for the next two flights of stairs and five hallways before she spoke.

"I never seen any servants," she said quietly behind him.

"Just because you do not see them does not mean that they are not there," he said gruffly as they drew up to her room. On the way back into the castle after depositing the old man he had ordered the servants to ready the room closest to the West Wing, so that he would personally be able to watch her.

The West Wing began at the end of the hallway that they were standing in. The area was completely black and imposing to an average viewer, but to the beast it was solely his domain. There were no windows in that part of the castle and there were no exits. Those who entered most likely would never return out of it ever since the curse was cast.

"You, Beauty, will not set foot into the West Wing which is directly in front of us. You will take no torch to light your way, you will see nothing there, and you will never enter that part of the castle as long as you live."

"Why, what's in the West Win—"

"It is forbidden!" he rounded on her, finally looking at her, she stumbled back with that ever-present fear in her eyes.

He stared until she nodded, but even then he didn't stop looking. He found himself and his anger confronted with the sight of a face now clean of tears, dark eyes, and a lush mouth. Memories shoved themselves into his consciousness making him growl and making her step back. He was reminded of the fateful night that had begun his torture. The same face, eyes, and mouth were once again in his presence. Everything inside of him stilled. She wasn't near old enough to have been there. He had seen her before, he couldn't stop the question that rumbled forth.

"What is your age?"

Confusion bled into her eyes, "My age? I am twenty."

"You couldn't possibly have been there."

"Pardon?"

Beast shoved open the door they stood in front of and left her question unanswered. "Get in. This room is your new prison cell. Unless you would prefer the dungeons?" he asked sarcastically.

She stood in the doorway as far away from his as possible and glanced into the room, her mouth dropped open. "This room is larger than my father's house."

"It is only a guest room, I can't imagine how pitiful your 'house' would be" he sneered. He was still reeling from the memories that her face brought back and was in no mood to converse. His attitude was becoming even more volatile than usual.

She tentatively put her foot in as if testing the waters. As if deeming it safe, she crept in. The candles around the room had already been lit and were burning hot and bright. The room colors were dark emeralds and purples.

He watched as she tried to gain her surroundings before a thought occurred to him, "Have you eaten?"

She laughed humorless, "Of course, there was a meal provided by the forest fairies."

"Do not make fun of magic! It is not something to be laughed at," he roared, stopping any more laughter that she might have experienced. She didn't look at him, but he could see she bit her lip perhaps trying not to cry, but she kept her spine straight and unwilling.

He paused before continuing, feeling a tingle of guilt but plowing through it trying to be more gentle in his demand, "You will eat with me. You will eat with me tonight, you will eat with me on the morrow, and you will eat with me for the rest of your life."

The "no" came out of her mouth before she could stop it, she looked as if she regretted it, but that didn't stop his fury, he strode forward until he was a mere foot away from her back and leaned towards her ear.

"Do not deny me anything in my home," he said quietly. "I do not mince words. You will listen to whatever I say whenever I say it. If I ask you to clean the castle floors you will, if I ask you to wash my dishes with nothing but your tongue, you will. If I ask you to disrobe without a minutes notice, you will do so without hesitation, do I make myself clear?"

She turned her head and stared at him in horror, their faces only inches apart. He scowled and broke the connection by stepping back and turning. He swept through the archway and slammed the door behind him, yelling back to her, "be ready for dinner, every night, starting tonight. I give you but an hour to dress."

With his last thought of her scared and angry face he leapt over the railing with his cloak billowing behind him. He crouched where he had landed before stalking into his den on the main floor, Lumiere sparked in greeting and Cogsworth chimed the nearest Grandfather clock. Beast ignored them and sat down in his chair and he thought of the day that Belle's face had brought to his memory.

* * *

Sixteen years before

The glass hit the marbled wall with an explosive shatter, but Adam ducked out-of-the-way. He laughed as he caught Maria by the waist and pulled her too him. "Settle down wench," she struggled halfheartedly, slapping him wherever she could reach.

"I seen you!" She screamed, her mouth curling angrily, "dancing with that little hussy," she tried kneeing him.

He'd done more than dance but if that was all she thought he had done there was no way that he was going to correct her. "Oh, Darling," He knew she liked it when he called her that, "you know my parents wanted me to marry her, but I swear, anything I do with her is just practice for what I plan to do with you." He placed a kiss on her neck. She slumped a little in his arms.

Still trying to sound upset, "You looked as if you were enjoying yourself a little too much," but she didn't push him away.

He had been. He'd also been holding his dancing partner indecently close and had been too focused on her to notice that his favorite maid had walked into the ballroom and had seen them.

"Do you promise she means nothing too you?"

"Oh, yes, nothing at all," he trailed more kisses down her throat to the collar of her servants uniform. A throaty giggle met his kisses as they fell on the fainting couch together. He was untying her apron when there was a knock on the door.

The butler's voice was muffled by the door, "There is someone here to see you, sir."

"I'm busy," he yelled pulling away from eager lips, "I don't care who it is."

"It's an old woman, she won't leave. I've tried telling her that you aren't taking any visitors."

Adam distracted by fumbling fingers and womanly moans temporarily forgot about Cogsworth at the door. He moaned and growled when there was another knock.

"Sir?"

"THE BLOODY HELL!" He shoved away from an eager Maria and shoved through the study door. He heard Maria whimper and whine behind him.

"What does she want?"

Cogsworth didn't even look twice at Adam's state of dishevelment, even though later he would no doubt tell every servant in the castle and most likely have Maria fired. "Sir, I don't know. She refuses to see anyone else but you and she says it's important."

Adam was in no mood for visitors. He was aroused and annoyed, not a good combination for a meeting with an old woman. "Talk and walk, Cogsworth. Who the hell is she?" he started off down the hall wanting to yell and get it over with quickly.

"She never gave a name."

"Then how did the damn woman even get in," he rounded on Cogsworth.

"I'm telling you, sir, she insisted!"

"I'll never understand why my parents kept you on for all those years."

"Sir, I do my job—"

"Save it, Cogsworth. You can leave, I can handle this," he came to the study doors.

"But, sir,"

"Leave."

He walked in and seen no one. For a second cold rage settled in, had Cogsworth just lied to him—his master? That was when he seen the old hag. She was sitting in a chair and had her hands braced on her knees as if trying hard to breath. Adam wondered briefly if she would just fall over dead. It would certainly save him some trouble.

"What do you want?" he blurted out, not caring about introductions. Faded eyes met his in a stare and the woman looked like she struggled to breath. Then she let out a harsh breath.

He realized it wasn't an actual breath, but a wheezy sentence, by god that was her voice. It made him shudder, "What?"

She spoke again, but this time he caught some words, "Do you want a rose?"

"Excuse me?" He couldn't possibly have heard her right. He leaned over and pulled the rope to his left, the rope would call up a servant and when one came he would have this woman distributed immediately into an insane asylum.

"Do. You. Want. A. Rose?" She crooned it slowly as if he were the mental one.

"No. No, I don't want a rose, why in the _hell_ would I possibly want a rose?"

"Do you want a ros—"

"Is that the only thing you can say? Are those the only words you know?" He yelled out. He yanked the door open when he heard the knock of a servant, he addressed them, "please, send for a carriage, we have a guest that needs to leave. Actually no, never mind, she can walk. Get up, you old bag," he ordered.

She stood, but when she did she lurched towards him with her hand thrust out. "Do you want a rose?" she screamed in her broken voice.

Surprising him when she leapt towards him he shoved himself back into a wall knocking over a vase. The hideous woman clung to him. He kicked her away and sneered, "I wouldn't want your roses even if they were magic."

Cackling the woman started laughing hysterically, the laughter caused her to hack and cough, her choking breaths caught and she grabbed her throat he stared at her disgusted and appalled. He realized that when she had thrust out her hand it had had a rose clutched in its wrinkles. It was a hideous thing, it didn't even look like a flower anymore. It had a single rotted petal that clung on as if by a thread. That was what she wanted him to take?

He started to laugh at the horrendous abomination that she wanted him to take from her. He wouldn't have touched the damn thing if somebody paid him. The woman had regained what little breath could fit into her depleted lungs and was staring at him offering the rose. He saw tears in her eyes and that only made him laugh harder.

"You think that I would want that ugly thing? It's nearly as ugly as you are!"

As he laughed at her stupidity she straightened herself to her full unimpressive sight. "Why couldn't you have just taken the rose?"

She then grabbed him with surprising strength and shoved him against the wall and pushed the stem of the rose into his hand, the thorns gashing through his skin. As soon as the rose touched him, he stopped laughing. The rose started to bloom into something beautiful and healthy, pain lanced through him. He felt the marrow of his bones boiling and burning. His fingers curled and he fell to his knees, crying out and clutching his chest. He tried desperately to drop the rose and he couldn't.

"You should have just taken the rose." Her voice sounded as if it was getting younger, not that he noticed at the time, too much pain was lancing through his body. "I can tell you three things. One, you have cursed yourself and those around you, only during the night will you ever get a reprieve. Two, you have no one to blame but yourself but you will blame everyone. Three, you have to earn someone's love, but now you are as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. That is all I can tell you, the rest you must learn for yourself."

Adam thrashed on the floor screaming, the castle itself was roaring with the screams of servants echoing off the walls and grounds. Spinning, everything was spinning, Adam screamed, but what came out wasn't human, it was animal. What was happening to him? Colors flashed before his eyes, but one thing was still in his eye's view. The old woman that had done this too him. He vowed at that moment, with the castles chaos echoing throughout the land that he would get revenge. He would get revenge, but that was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.

* * *

The Beast sat up straight in his chair, no she definitely wasn't that old crone that had come to him in the night. Her face wasn't anything like the old woman's and she didn't sound like the woman either, when the voice was old or young.

So why had her face reminded him of that night. He hadn't thought of that night for years. He successfully blocked it out. Perhaps she was simply 'the one' and that was what was making him think about it.

"_Master, I do believe you could be a bit nicer to the girl,"_ Cogsworth's voice flowed through the air like unwanted honey.

"What do you know?"

"_You have me there, sir, but would you like to be treated like that?"_

"_He has a point."_ Lumiere's flames spanned out from the fire and twisted wildly with his words, "_you have to romance the girl. She is young, innocent, and spry. A beauty of the highest caliber and you are treating her like a field horse._"

Beast grunted, "I don't hand field horses my guest rooms do I? Besides she's stubborn, she deserved it."

"_That is where you are wrong, she didn't listen to you because you are an overbearing abomination,"_ Lumiere continued over Cogsworth's gasp of outrage and Beast's snort, "_No one deserves to be treated as if they are a slave, especially a woman that might save you…You only have so much time left."_

"I know!" That's what made him angry, he knew he shouldn't have said those things to her, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He knew Lumiere and Cogsworth were right about her that she could be the one, but if she wasn't than he was doing nothing but wasting his time and house on her.

"Cogsworth has it been an hour?"

"_About 45 minutes, sir."_

"Close enough, fetch the girl."

"_Yes, sir, of course, sir." _

"_Are you sure?" _Lumiere broke in, "_That's quite a short time for a woman to adjust to her life being over."_

"She'll have the rest of eternity then. She won't be aging anymore now that she's in the castle. Now go Cogsworth."

Beast stood up, suddenly nervous, what if she really was the one? They were right he couldn't keep treating her like a prisoner. He would have to treat her like a… _friend_. Ugh, even thinking it made him cringe. He'd never really had friends, he'd never really wanted any even during his eighteen years before he was cursed. His parents had died when he was sixteen and he had been left everything of theirs. He had had no need for friends or any other family.

He paced the carpet in front of Lumiere, staring at the clock in the above the mantle. Five minutes had passed… ten minutes passed… fifteen minutes passed.

"Where the hell are they?" he burst out suddenly.

"_Um, sir?"_

"What?" He roared when he heard Cogsworth's voice.

"_She—she's not coming."_

* * *

**_Author's Note: Hope you're enjoying, sorry it took so long. Hopefully the next won't take quite so long, I had to change the story line I had originally planned, so that's what took so long. Don't forget to review, I know you wanna _() () . (='.'=) . c( u u ) .**


	10. Chapter 10

Belle ignored the viscous banging on the door and continued to shift through the mountain of dresses.

"Come down to dinner…_Please."_

The 'please' sounded forced and not at all inviting and Belle had no plans of satisfying him. When he had first dumped her in the room she had been terrified, yes, but even more than that she had felt angry. He had no reason to be so rude with her, she didn't care if he was an animal, he had enough human qualities to talk so he should act like a semi-decent human being.

At this point he was making Gaston look good.

With that thought, Belle's vision blurred. She had forgotten about Gaston and what had almost happened. Oh God, for all she knew Gaston was still furious and looking for her. If he found her – Belle cut off that train of thought and steeled herself pulling out yards of gaudy rich dresses. She yelled out, "I'm not coming!"

She could practically hear his annoyance through the large door. She could also hear other voices, but she couldn't make out any of the words. Must be the invisible servants she thought while mocking the beast's descending voice.

She gave one final tug on the scarlet fabric in the wardrobe and almost screamed as she was buried in heavy silks, taffeta, and ribbon. She heaved the corsets, petticoats and shifts off her body with an unladylike grunt. The common dresses she was used to were nothing like these rich monstrosities. The gowns she wore were simple and practical, but these were almost to the point of being unwearable.

"Are you all right," The door handle rattled and the door shook. She glanced at the door with a smile, he wouldn't be breaking in anytime soon, unless he wanted to completely destroy his home. She'd already moved a chair, fainting couch, and chest in front of the door unless he got any ideas. She may have promised to stay here, but that didn't mean that she was going to make it easy for him.

"Belle, answer me."

Belle stared at the door, still sitting in a pile of fabric. He sounded genuinely worried. She hadn't even made that big of a sound. His attitudes were as volatile as the last few days had been for her. She didn't understand him. He had openly hurt her father, verbally abused her nearly every chance he had, taken her prisoner, but was still worried that she might have hurt herself.

"_Belle_," the door rattled.

"Stop! I'm fine." She stood up, "no thanks to you," she mumbled.

There was no answer, she could hear the rumbling snarls that was the beast's voice and once again the voices that she didn't recognize.

"Beauty, please open the door. I would be more than happy for you to join me for dinner tonight."

"Why? So, you can berate me again?" she moved closer to the door, "I for one am not in the mood. I may not be the smartest woman in the world, but I have been through a lot the past few days and thrust into situations that most will never have to endure. So to answer your proposal which you don't even bother to phrase as a question, I will not be joining you for dinner and I will not be joining you for dinner until you earn it. You have been everything but kind."

"What do you expect me to do?" His voice was stifled through the door, but no less imposing, "by refusing to meet me for dinner tonight you are refusing me a chance to prove myself kind."

"Well, you should have thought of that before you yelled at me." She turned on her heel and heaved a pile of dresses up into her arms and shoved them into the wardrobe with a bang. Sleeves and hems poked out of the drawers in random places.

More growling from behind the door, "Fine, but if you won't eat with me than, by god, you won't eat at all!"

"_Master, just wait!"_

"_You were supposed to be consoling—"_

"_And kind—"_

"_You can't just walk—"_

"Well, she's being difficult. Lumiere! I don't care, just stay here and watch the door, if she gets out than alert me immediately!" His voice faded as he went down the hallway.

Well, Belle had heard the voices this time. One was obviously Lumiere, but she didn't know which one they had both been male. Voices continued to murmur outside her door, but no matter how she tried without them yelling she couldn't hear a thing. She found it strange that the voices were right outside yet there were no shadows underneath the door to give away their presence.

She backed up as what the beast had said earlier sunk in, he had said something about how even though you couldn't see them, they were still there. Oh God, what if they were watching her every move in her room. She backed up slowly and looked up at the gilded gold ceiling, her eyes tracing over the violet walls. Of course she couldn't see anything, even with the numerous candles and large fireplace that took up a wall of the room.

She blinked and laughed at herself nervously of course she wouldn't be able to see anything, she was just being silly. There had to be another explanation other than invisible servants. Although invisible servants seemed more believable than a hulking animal that talked.

Belle fully turned around in the room, perhaps this was all just a dream that seemed very real. Yes! That was it, when she was in the forest searching for her father she had fallen off of Philippe and hit her head. Ha, it was just a dream and what a dream it was it—

"Ahh!" When she turned back towards the closet to enjoy her dream a bit more, one of the dresses was suspended in the air right in front of her as if it had been in the middle of checking the fit. The dress flung up in the air and swung around madly. Belle watched it as she backed up in desperation before launching herself towards the door.

"_Oh, Dear, did I scare you? I was just checking your measurements—you're quite curvy you know! Oh, don't leave it's been so long since I've been able to dress anyone, I do miss it so."_

Belle felt a ribbon loop around her ankle, making her fall to the ground.

"_Sorry to trip you, Dear! All this ribbon is such a hassle and sometimes I get confused on what's what. Do you know your measurements?"_

Belle looked around madly at the twining fabrics and colors, "Wha-What?"

"_Oh, it's no problem I can just measure you myself… Where did I put I put my tape? No, not in there..Maybe," _the voice trailed on.

Belle stared in horror as all the clothes that she had stuffed into the wardrobe were being strewn about by invisible hands. Random cloth was hitting her in the face and was being thrown across the bed.

"Wake up, it's just a dream. Wake up, it's just a dream," as a jewelry box came sailing towards her face, "IT ISN'T JUST A DREAM!"

She got up, untangling herself from the ribbon and ran to the other side of the room to the window, looking for really any type of escape. Whatever it was throwing everything in front of the door and she didn't want to walk past it. But, from the view, there was no way that the window was an exit unless she wanted to die a slow and painful death. She spun back around as the clothes started to move towards her, she gasped and swept underneath a mountain of flying ruffles and bows. Behind her she could her, "_Maybe it's in the nightstand beside the bed... No, not there either, where would I have put it…"_

Belle started tearing at the clothes in front of the door and to the furniture underneath. She gripped a chair and heaved with all her might and feebly flung it out of her path. The fainting couch she tugged and pulled and one of the legs snagged on the rug, ruining something that was probably priceless, but she was in no position to care. Once it was far enough from the doors span she latched onto the chair and as soon as she pulled it away, the door burst open with a bang and a tea cart came sailing into the room like carriage. The cart came to a screeching halt in front of Belle and Belle just stared as the teapot moved around the cart, pushing a teacup towards her.

Behind her, "_I know it's somewhere! Oh, I fooouuund it!"_

"_Madame Georgette! You are scaring the poor girl, well, my, she looks absolutely terrified! What did you do to her?"_

The dress that had first surprised Belle showed up and drooped beside her, "_Oh, I didn't mean to scare her! Was it my drawers? I've been meaning to clean them."_

"There's voices. From a dress and a teapot. A teapot. And a dress. And I am not dreaming. No, I'm not dreaming, I am utterly and completely insane," Belle backed up, "the people in town always called me crazy, but I never believed they were true. Of course, my dresses never tried to speak to me and I never talked to the teapot at home."

"_Hush, girl, you are not crazy, you are as sane as I am. I am Mrs. Potts, Mr. Potts was broken a few weeks ago—Oh, it's a joke dear, it's supposed to make you smile not wince. And the clothes that have been speaking to you are Madame Georgette. Very rude of her not to properly introduce herself to you."_

"_I wanted to dress her, and besides I thought the master would have already informed her of us. With her staying and all, don't be so shocked Mrs. Potts, Maria told me, she is very quick with gossip."_

"_She's also quick at other less appropriate things. Here, Dear, drink this up, it will make you feel better. _

Belle looked at the steaming cup that had just been shoved into her hand and tried to calm herself down. She traced her finger over a small chip in the cup and watched as the cup wiggled and then actually giggled.

"_Maria, shouldn't be—Chip, how rude, stop that right now!"_

"_Sorry, Mama."_

"Okay…" Belle sat the cup down hastily as it spoke and watched as it scuttled back to the cart. "Perhaps someone could explain what is going on," she interrupted their conversation.

"_Oh, of course dear, you see—"_

"_The beast is lonely and needs a woman!"_

"_Georgette, stop! That was not what she was talking about she was asking about, I believe she was inquiring about the lack of servants being humans."_

"_Ohh. Well, she would have asked about that information eventually."_

"What do you mean 'needs a woman'?"

"_Don't worry about that, Dearie. As I told you I am Mrs. Potts and I am the 'spirit' you might say that controls all of the dishware and china. A very important job if you ask me. Madame Georgette here is in control of the clothes of the castle. She makes sure everyone is dresses—or I mean the Master is dressed and—"_

"_You have no idea how happy I am to have you hear, the master is simply a bore to dress—he never wants to wear pink. I can't fathom—"_

"Georgette!_ I swear—well anyway, Dear, Lumiere is the light of the castle. He's in the fire place over yonder, but that's only his presence, don't worry he isn't actually listening. He was before to watch you, but now that I'm here he's free to do what he wants. Cogsworth is a little harder to explain and take in."_

"You mean out of a group of spirits that wouldn't even be real in an average situation, one of you is hard to comprehend. I can't imagine."

"_You see Cogsworth is time. He doesn't have a physical presence like Lumiere, me, or Georgette. He is just time, he can wind the clocks back to another time or fast forward them, but only to a certain extent, he can also stop time in a specific place, so that everything stops aging, well almost everything, you yourself should stop aging now that you are here, but for some reason the master ages, Cogsworth can't stop that. That is how the castle is at the moment. Frozen in time. Or at least until you break the—"_

When Mrs. Potts suddenly stopped talking, Belle leaned forward, by the minute it was getting less and less strange that she was talking to a teapot. "When I break what?"

If a teapot could look nervous, this one did. When suddenly as if she couldn't contain herself anymore, the measuring tape soared at Belle, "_Oh, let me measure you. You'll need new gowns if you'll be entertaining the master of the house! Let me see—Oh!"_

Belle tore the tape from where it wrapped around her chest and threw it to the ground. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Georgette, but I don't want new dresses, I like the dress I have on and the ones I have at home, I'll be fine. Can you just send someone to collect them? I'd rather not bother you too much by putting you to work."

It was silent for a bit and Belle was realizing that they were clearly hiding something from her. Neither of them said anything as she looked at the dishes on the cart and the clothes strewn throughout the room, until finally she said, "is there something wrong with that plan?"

"_Well, yes… You see, the master doesn't want you to have any contact with anything from your home. He wants you to start over here."_

Belle shook her head, "but I don't want to start over, I have a life or I had a life, can't I at least have my own belongings?"

The clothes shifted towards the wardrobe, putting themselves back in, "_I'm afraid not. Do not worry, describe your dresses to me and I can replicate them in the fabrics I have available, it will be just like your old ones."_

"No, they won't be. Many of my dresses are my mother's that I grew into. As magical as you may be you cannot weave together the memories of my mother. It just isn't the same."

"…_I am sorry. Maybe after some time passes, you can persuade the Master to let someone retrieve them. If you spend some time with him, you'll find that he isn't as bad as all that he seems. He's really quite pleasant if you get to know him."_

"But, I don't want to get to know him, I don't want anything to do with him!"

Belle stood up from the bed and walked to the window and stared out. You could see miles and miles of green, thousands of shades. It should have been beautiful, but she just couldn't take any of the beauty in. Her father was wounded and most likely closer to death than life, Gaston was still out there and looking for her. What would happen if Gaston got ahold of her father. Her father wouldn't stand a chance in his injured state. She had promised her life away and had missed so much in the process, it had never crossed her mind that she wouldn't even be able to say goodbye to the man that raised her and she loved dearly.

She focused on the reflection in the window, she looked worn out and pained. Georgette and Mrs. Potts weren't talking anymore and by the absolute silence of the room she assumed that they had left her to her thoughts.

Maybe she could make it out here okay, she thought to herself. She already had more friends here than she had had in the village. She just had to remain optimistic. It was too much to think about now, she dragged her body away from the window and to the bed. Tired with the thoughts of her father and the overwhelming castle she laid across the bed, not even noticing that it was the softest bed that she had ever laid on in her life. She fell asleep immediately.

* * *

The Beast leaped up the stairs. Troublesome girl. He had acted cordial and gentleman like in his asking her to join him, but no, she had to refuse. He slammed the two entry doors to his den and walked across the bare-thread carpet. He opened the full windows and felt the blast of the cool night air. It was later than he thought. Time was so strange in the castle.

He gripped the window lining, being careful not to be too harsh with it. Why did she have to enrage him so. It was as if she purposefully tried. No one had ever purposefully tried before, it was quite surprising.

His chest rumbled, "I ask her to dinner nicely and she refuses, what does she expect me to do, beg? I do not beg."

His emotions were in a complete turmoil, he didn't like it. He liked her and didn't like her at the same time. She made him feel and think things that he hadn't thought of in years. It had been so long since he had been in the presence of a woman, an actual woman, not just some reminisce of a woman. Hell, if Mrs. Potts were still an actual woman she would look good to him and she had been nothing but motherly his whole life.

He was already thinking of her dark eyes and gentle face. She had to be the one. She just had to be. There were no other options for him. He turned away from the wind and picked up the heavy simple mirror. He rarely used it, but he had a feeling he would be using it a lot more with her in his castle.

"Show me the girl."

"…I don't want anything to do with him!"

Belle's image stood up and walked to the window. She was limping a bit and looked extremely upset. Beast felt pain shoot through his chest as her words sank in. He was never going to break the curse. He slowly sank to the ground and stared at her, not being able to look away. He watched as her face started to gain color and her face bloomed with hope. She looked tired still, but her face grew more optimistic and with her hope more beautiful. She walked to the large bed in the room and gingerly crawled across without even changing into sleeping attire. So tired she didn't even notice the dinginess of her dress.

He laid the mirror face down on the table and didn't bother looking at the rose that was on the same table. Looking at it just brought painful memories and hopes that would never be met. Who was he kidding. She would never want him. Never care for him anymore than she would care for a warden.

He sat with his horned head down, the cold air freezing him and dreamed of a life stolen from him.

* * *

Belle awoke when the gnawing in her stomach became too much. She groaned into the down pillow her face was buried in.

"Ugh."

She rolled over slowly and saw that the fire had nearly died down. It was nothing but an orange glow, she wondered if Lumiere was listening in on her. She pushed off the bed and pushed her hair out of her face from where it had fallen out of her braid.

She got up and walked around the room a bit. There was no sign of Madame Georgette. The room was now orderly. Everything had been cleaned while she was sleeping.

"That's strange," she murmured looking at the furniture that she had moved around, but was now in the place it had first been.

She walked to the door, pressured by the growling of her stomach. She tested the handle, wasn't locked and she hadn't expected it to be, it was what might be outside the she was afraid of. She opened up the door and poked her head out. No one. But, as Belle well knew that didn't mean that no one was there. She crept out anyway, because it wasn't as if she had anything to lose.

"Now if I was a kitchen where would I be?"

She walked down the hallways a bit, not towards the west wing, but to the large staircase leading down to what she assumed was the ground floor, but she had been over so many floors that she truly had no idea where she was in the castle. It was too large to learn in just a night.

As she came to the foot of the stairs she saw a fire blaze to life on a candelabra.

"_Why hello, Ma Cherie!"_

Belle jumped, "You must be Lumiere."

"_You are correct in your assumption. May I be presumptuous and assume that you are hungry?... In that case, will you, _be our guest_?"_


	11. Chapter 11

Beast awoke with a sudden stabbing pain in his spine. It was ripping up to the base of his skull and traveling down his limbs. He opened his mouth with a soundless yell as he felt his bones and muscles shifting beneath his trembling flesh. He reached up and cradled his pounding head and felt a face. A human face. His face.

His hands. Oh God, his hands. They were human—they were his! He couldn't see them in the utter darkness, but he could feel them. He could feel them on his own face.

He'd felt that pain before, it was a feeling he would never forgot and had never hoped to experience again. He had felt it when the old crone had first traveled to the castle and given him a single rose. Only then he had been transformed into a horrifying reflection of his personality.

He lurched from the bed he was on, ignoring the pain with his desperation to find a mirror and prove to himself that he wasn't just dreaming, but as soon as his foot, his human foot, touched a beam of moonlight from the open window, he felt the overwhelming pain again. This time the pain was too much and his scream held the rage that had boiled forth over the years. He fell to his knees, which were once again to their normal furred state. He felt his teeth shift and shove from his gums leaving him without a doubt that he was Beast again.

What was this?

He was the beast again, he could see his fur in the moonlight, felt how his limbs had extended and the muscles grew in size and girth. Anger flowed hot through his veins causing him to growl, he was angry at the world, the injustice of the situation. He had paid his dues, did he not deserve peace from this hell? What had just happened was nothing but a tease of what could never be.

He stood up on shuddering legs. He didn't care how it may have seemed to someone else, for one brief moment he had been human again. He lowered his chin to his chest and breathed deeply trying to calm himself. He had felt his own skin and not the course fur that he had accustomed himself to.

He was in his bedroom, it was the same master bedroom that his family had used for generations, but of course he had remodeled quite a bit. Ripping the candle chandelier from the ceiling when he had first turned. Destroying one of the floor to ceiling windows by throwing a chair through it, so no matter what he did there was always a chilly cast to the room. His personal favorite change was when he had taken his sixteen year old portrait and ripped it to shreds with his claws. Sometimes having human-like lion paws came in handy.

He walked forward to the only table in the room that had no scratches, no splintered wood, it wasn't even chipped, but it did have on it's surface the only thing that had any sort of value to it- a single crinkled rose. It was so old it had started to curl in on itself and slowly over the years had shed petal after petal. There was only one petal left. The sight calmed his anger and scared him at the same time. He looked beside the rose to the magic mirror that he had used earlier. He stared at his own disgusting reflection. The face of Beast was quite disturbing, he tried to not look at himself whenever possible, in fact all of the mirrors in the West Wing were broke except this one and that was because this one was magic. The large protruding horns that had shoved themselves from his skull curled upwards, and the extended snout that was in a constant snarl, he turned away with abhorrence. But, before he ducked into the shadows out of habit like he usually did when he got sick of himself, he had a sudden thought. Why had he been turned back into human for those short seconds? Now that he thought of it he had been human until he touched the light.

His eyes widened and he stood straight up with the thought.

_Only during the night will you ever get a reprieve._

Those words, those same words were what the old woman had told him when he turned. It had been the first of the three things that she had been allowed to tell him.

Certainly, it couldn't mean what he hoped to the Heavens it meant. With Belle here could he be human during the night? Was she already ripping down the walls of the curse simply be being near him? There was only one true way to really test the theory.

He stared into the darkness that shrouded his bed. The massive shadow of the Beast stretched towards the shadows as if searching to be in its own territory. He edged closer, hoping that his insane thinking had some truth in it. He slowly stepped forward until the only part of his body that remained in the moonlight was his clawed foot. He slowly dragged it into the darkness.

As soon as his whole body was covered in shadows the pain immediately returned, but this time he smiled as he felt his bones breaking.

For the first time in sixteen years he felt true exhilarating happiness. He didn't know how long he stood there in the shelter of the shadows. His body was human, he felt the absence of the heavy weight of the Beast's muscles for the second time that night.

He didn't want the night to end and as the hours passed he had never hated a sunrise more.

* * *

Belle had followed the lit torches that lined the walls. Lumiere had kindly led her down through the foyer into what she assumed was the servant's hall, by lighting a new torch when she reached the previous one. The servant's hall wasn't as wide as the others and it didn't have any lavish decorations on the walls for people to appreciate, but the wallpaper was rich and looked as if it was lined with threads of gold. Her eyebrows raised on their own accord, _this place is easily worth more than the all the villages in the valley, combined_. It was almost sickening, but one couldn't help but be intrigued and eager to see more.

A torch sparked ahead of her spurring her to quicken her pace to keep up with Lumiere. She didn't say anything as they came to the end of the hall to a set of large mahogany doors. She assumed Lumiere was already inside and wanted her to come in, so she touched the door handle and was about to push through. The doors swung back with a creak when she touched them, leaving her there with her hand outstretched towards nothing.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she focused on what was inside.

"My…"

"_We have whatever you might desire."__  
_

Lumiere's voice rang clear through the domed kitchen. Belle's slippers were soundless against the stone of the floor, but if her shoes would have been singing praises she wouldn't have been able to notice. The kitchen was blusterous in its noise.

She stumbled in and nearly jumped out of her skin when the chair she was about to sit in leaned back as if in invitation to it. She needed to get used to the activities of inanimate objects soon, this jumping about was going to kill her sooner or later and she was betting on sooner. She gingerly accepted the seat with muttered thanks and continued staring at the performance around her. Plates were throwing themselves into basins full of sloshing water and then drying themselves off and shelving themselves. For some reason she wasn't truly surprised, but you can't help but ogle these things.

"_Bonjour,"_ The voice was full of flourish and accent and so smooth that it practically caressed your ears. It was coming from the table.

"_Oh, it has been so long since we have serviced a lady,"_ the table seemed to shiver. "_Your every desire is my whim."_

"_Ma Cherie, that voice is Beau,"_ Lumiere's winsome voice rang through the air, clashing with the clanks and clicks of dishware hitting each other. "_You'll have to excuse him, he's quite the romantic and he doesn't get to use his charm as often as he would like too._" There was laughter in the fire's voice and a few scattered chuckles from others in the room.

"_I wholesomely agree, my beauty. I've heard they call you Belle. A beautiful name for an attractive women, it deserves to be whispered quietly by a lover in candlelight."_

"_Beau! You forget yourself,"_ Mrs. Potts' angry chime stopped all movement in the room. Her motherly attitude was a force to be reckoned with and it was obvious that no one in the room was going to. The dishware had stopped washing and polishing themselves. Some were still suspended in the air in the middle of what they were doing.

"_Oh, I didn't realize you were listening Mrs. Potts. My humblest apologies." _

"_Humph, apologize to the girl, not my old ears and it shouldn't matter whether I was listening in or not- you don't treat young respectable ladies that way!"_

Belle cut into the conversation before anyone else said anything. Indigent anger was coming from Mrs. Potts and pure sass was coming from Beau, he wasn't planning on backing down without a fight. She didn't want anything to get more awkward. "No, that's alright, I'm not insulted. But, I am rather hungry…"

"_Why, Lumiere, you haven't fed the girl?"_

"_Mrs. Potts, don't worry I have it all figured out. Cook, fill the dishes!"_

Belle turned in her seat to see who Cook was, craning her neck over the high back of her chair. The massive stove that dominated the whole wall behind her reminded Belle of her father as soon as she seen it. She quelled the pang and focused on the impressive machine. The stove had pipes and chimneys that rose clear to the ceiling. Smoke billowed out in grey swirls and she could hear the sizzling coming from the giant apparatus. It was something her father would have envied and loved to see. She could hear what she presumed was Cook's voice coming from behind the dark smoke.

"_Well, at least you can enjoy my heavenly food."_ Cook had a deep voice that positively shook the kitchen, he talked about his food as if it were his children. He sounded insulted and huffy as he continued,_ "The master ordered me to slave out a meal in less than an hour and then he just vanishes. I believed all my food was gone to waste!"_

Before her eyes plates flew from behind the smoke. Each plate came to her eye level before setting itself down at the end of the table. Each dish had something different but no less delicious than the last. Before she knew it about two dozen plates had lined up across the table. The scent of the food billowed around her face and with every inhale she felt her stomach grow anxious. Her lips were parted the slightest bit and if she concentrated she could practically taste what awaited her. She controlled her moan.

"_Miss Belle, do you find the servants satisfactory?"_ Beau's voice traced over her senses. If he was human he'd be dangerous.

"It's more than I ever dreamed. Although I am quite hungry, I don't think I could ever eat all of this," she said regretfully, because not only did she want to eat every bite on the plates, but she wanted to lick them clean too.

"_That is fine, ma Cherie. Eat what you will, don't worry about the rest. We have soup de jour, pie and pudding en flambé, hors d'oeuvres, beef ragout, cheese soufflé, and, well, I'm not sure what the grey stuff is but it is quite delicious."_

"It sounds delightful." It sounded more than delightful, but she was trying to control herself at least a little bit. She started on the dish closest to her. She thought it might have been the cheese souffle. The small bite melted into her mouth and she felt her eyes cross underneath her eyelids. Better than anything she had ever tasted in her entire life. That one bite led to another and another and before she knew it she had tried every dish at least twice. Maybe thrice. Some she had finished whole. Everything was as delicious as she could have dreamed and then some.

While she had been eating the servants around her conversed quietly and joked. It felt very much like a family in the kitchen. Lumiere had offered suggestions while she ate, seeming eager to see her try anything new and be pleased by it. She leaned back in her chair and put a hand on her stomach. She'd be full for days.

As she fully relaxed and settled into her chair, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. In fact she was having more fun in the mere hour she had been with these people than she had ever had with the people of the village. It was ironic, she was considered a prisoner here, but they treated her more like company than anyone in the village had even tried. Excluding Mr. Fehr, of course, she and the bookstore owner had gotten along swimmingly.

At this rate, if she kept thinking about the few good things in the village she was bound to end up depressingly homesick. That was the last thing that she wanted to feel like.

"Oh, Lumiere, I just thought of something," she said when she thought of Mr. Fehr, "is it possible that I could get some books to read in my room? I noticed that there were none in my room. I fear I am rather an avid reader."

"_Of course, Mademoiselle. What kind of books were you thinking of?"_

When Belle opened her mouth to answer, she was interrupted by the sound of enraged stuttering.

"_What- what is the meaning of this?" _The voice cracked into the room like thunder and for a brief horrifying second Belle thought that it was the Beast's angry words, but they weren't near intimidating enough to be his. The voice was rather high-class and haughty, but as it was it managed to stop all conversations in the room.

Lumiere sighed, "_Oh, Cogsworth, do settle down."_

"_What is _she _doing here? The prisoner? The very prisoner that is supposed to be occupying her room, but instead seems to be having a late night snack with the servants that should be resting."_

"_She needed to eat, Cogsworth, the master does not need to know everything. What are you depressed, because we didn't invite you?"_

"_No! I am upset because you are going against the masters orders."_

_"Like I said he does not need to know."_

_"But-but, he must know. He always knows, you know he always finds information out one way or another."_

"_Let us not talk of the master right now. She is our guest and deserves to be given that respect."_

"_No, you are wrong, she is our pris-"_

"_I don't care what the master says in this matter, Cogsworth."_

_"_Okay, I don't want anyone to get into any trouble." Belle felt bad for creating this huge controversy between the people of the castle. "I'm sorry, Cogsworth, I never fully realized that I was to stay in my room."

Cogsworth's voice took on a regretful professional tone, "_I am sorry. I know you probably don't enjoy your stay here so far, but it is for the best, I assure you. Now, if you'll just follow my voice I'll lead you to the master and you can confess at your own disposal. I'll just-"_

The kitchen erupted into angry voices, Mrs. Potts yelling sternly (likely the most effective of the bunch), Lumiere telling Cogsworth to stuff his ideas where someone would care (implying a very rude area that Belle wasn't even sure Cogsworth had since he wasn't human), Beau defending her (cursing Cogsworth and threatening him with a duel).

Belle tried to remember what Mrs. Potts had told her about Cogsworth. He was the controller of time, that was about all Belle knew about him, but now she also knew that he seemed to be the most afraid of the Beast. With his being in the room she realized how much she had jeopardized the servants of the castle. They were clearly afraid of the master and due to her being with them she was making them go against his orders. She didn't want to cause anyone pain. These people had been kind to her so far, other than the whole prisoner part of the ordeal, but in the last few minutes she had realized that they were in fact kind and kinder than most at that.

When it quieted down, only when one of the dishware said that the master might hear them at this rate. Lumiere's voice reigned supreme above the angry whispers that were still being cast about."_Oh, ma Cherie, whatever you are thinking, do not worry, I saw you bit your lip and how your brow knit. The master may be imposing at first, but he cannot hurt us without in turn hurting himself. So, do not worry. By the way, I'm not sure if you know, but this bumbling idiot is Cogsworth." _Then he added threateningly, "_he won't be leading you anywhere."_

"Mrs. Potts and Madame Georgette told me of him. It's lovely to meet you, Cogsworth," she said to the open air since Cogsworth didn't actually have an object to focus on. "I am truly sorry for causing so much trouble."

"_Ahem…Well... You believe you should be in your room don't you?"_

Nothing else was said and she could hear Mrs. Potts' tea boiling madly.

"Well, um, perhaps I should retire to my room for the evening. I am feeling a bit overwhelmed." She wasn't really, she was actually enjoying herself a bit, but she didn't want to stay in the friction anymore.

"_Of course, Dear," _Mrs. Potts said soothingly, "_It is an awful lot to take in. Go ahead, would you like an escort to your room?"_

Belle tried to push out her chair, but it stuck in a crack on the floor, Beau pushed out her chair for her then and Belle stood up. She realized that she really had no idea where her room was. The castle was just so huge and so vast. She wondered briefly what she would find if she just walked around the castle, but then she thought better of it when it occurred to her that she would most likely get lost and then that would definitely get the servants in trouble. But, she was saved having to ask someone to take her to her room by Cogsworth loudly saying, "_Well,__ we wouldn't want her to run off so of course someone should escort her."_

"_Cogsworth! I am tired of your snarky comments, she is our guest. Have you forgotten how to treat guests over the_ years?" Then to her, "_Ma Cherie, would you appreciate a tour tomorrow, I think it would do you good to actually walk around the place that you live in." _Lumiere waited until she nodded, "_well, then, Cogsworth you and I will give her a tour tonight. I say tonight because the sun is quickly rising and the night is turning into the morning. The master will arise soon, so as much as I want to disagree with Cogsworth, you probably should retire."_

"_But, the master—"_

"_Cogsworth and I will give you a tour," _he said with finality. "_Tonight."_

Belle nodded her head and smiled, accepting whatever they wanted to do. It's not as if she has plans. Mrs. Potts took pity on her without her asking and decided to lead her to her room. Before she left the kitchen Beau yelled out a whining goodbye, and the rest of the servants bid their goodbyes along with him.

When she got to her room she said goodnight to Mrs. Potts and entered. She laid down on the bed and stared out the window. Lumiere had been right of course, the sun was starting to rise. The pink and purple sky blended around the sun. The morning was always beautiful, but she couldn't seem to enjoy it like she normally would. She'd already explored her gilded room and had no books to read so she laid and stared at the sky. She sighed before falling back on the bed. She wished she would have been able to finish answering Lumiere what books she liked, she was in her room with nothing to do. She'd already pursued the room to it's extent and there wasn't anything new to be found.

* * *

Belle lurched up with a scream, sitting up halfway in bed. She looked around disoriented not remembering where she was. For some reason she had a dream where she was still in the forest and wandering aimlessly and right before she woke up there had been a growl. When Belle had turned red claws had scraped across her face turning her vision into a red blur. That's when she had woken up.

She spotted a small clock above the fireplace and squinted to see the time. It was almost sundown. It had been a boring day.

She sat up the rest of the way and swung her feet over the bed, letting her unslippered feet sink into the soft rug. The most exciting thing that she had done was stretched and walked around the room enough to make a trail. She had entertained herself by watching the birds outside her window. However, after about two minutes birds get rather boring. She tried to see what she could of the courtyard below her window, but all she could really see from the height was the pattern that the pathways made around the fountain. She spotted bushes along the wall, but couldn't tell what kind or even if they were flower bushes.

The forest outside the castle walls was so thick and boundless that she couldn't even see the village. She wondered how far she had really traveled to reach this place. She'd certainly never heard of it in the village. She'd thought about it before, but she couldn't help but wonder why no one had ever mentioned it before. Could it truly be that no one had ever seen it before? But, it had clearly been quite prestigious at one point or another, the castle was clearly big enough for guests from all over the world, it would take hundreds of people to fully fill it. Hard to believe that it was only for one family.

Sometime around noon, Madame Georgette had opened up the wardrobe and was once again on a mission for the measuring tape. Belle had let Georgette take her measurements, and had actually enjoyed the time spent with her. Georgette was nice and flamboyant, she had an obvious adoration for fashion. Belle wondered if Madame Georgette knew of the popular fashions, she assumed that the servants of the castle couldn't leave, but perhaps she was wrong. She thought it too rude to ask, considering the answer might be no and might make Georgette depressed. Georgette left after about an hour seeming eager to get to start her new creations and Belle didn't want to keep her here with if she didn't want to be. With Madame Georgette's departure she tumbled back into boredom.

Mrs. Potts snuck in a small leftover meal up to her after Georgette's visit around one. Belle was still a bit full from how much she had ate earlier, but she ate enough to be polite to Mrs. Potts. While she was here, she enquired whether or not she would be joining the master for dinner. Belle refused immediately, she was in no mood to see him and so far he had done nothing to make her want to dine with him. So, she instead curbed the conversation and asked about Philippe. She was told that her horse was fine and was being taken care of in the stable. If the stable was anything like the kitchen than the horse was probably enjoying himself.

It was so boring that Belle had to ask if Lumiere had said anything about finding her some books, she didn't want to seem like a needy burden, but what was she supposed to do?

"_No, dear, he didn't. He met up with the master as soon as he woke up. I believe they have been talking this whole time. Haven't seen the master come out all day. I went in earlier to ask about tea, but he sent me to you to ask about dinner. I'll tell you, he seemed rather different today. Must be one of his good days."_

_"_Good days? What happens on the bad days?"

"_On those days, we don't see him, but, my, do we hear him. So many things are destroyed it's a miracle we have anything left. More tea?"_

Belle's eyes widened, they seemed to do that a lot here. _Anything left?_ How many things had they had before? They had enough it seemed to buy all the land in the world. Everytime, she turned around she seen something more expensive then the last. Is that what was in the West Wing, was it filled with treasures or terrors? She knew that she was not supposed to go there, but because she had been warned she wanted nothing else but to enter the 'forbidden' wing. She contented herself with thinking of what might be in the wing. Paintings? Hidden passage ways? Maybe secret ways out of the castle? Decades of scandal? Her interest was growing in the West Wing with every thought, she better stop wondering whats inside or else she'd find herself pretty much skipping into the wing with excitement. Who knew what would happen if she stumbled into the one place that the beast didn't want her to go into.

After Mrs. Potts left. Belle looked down at herself for the first time since she had gotten there.

"Oh, ew. I wish I would have asked for a tub."

She was standing in the middle of the room staring down at herself in some disgust. Nerves were what stopped her from asking the first night, but she should have at least thought about it before she dined last night. But, after the words left her mouth she heard a thunk and a crack behind her. She spun and set-up in the corner closest to the window was a fold out screen. She crept forward, not surprised that something had just popped up randomly in the room. Behind the screen wasn't a tub, but a basin and pitcher on a small stand.

When she thought of it it made sense, the castle probably had a specific bathing room in it somewhere. She'd have to remember to ask someone about it, because what she needed was a long soak. She still had the dirt and grime from the forest caked onto the hem of her dress, but there was no way that she was going to give up the opportunity to at least wash herself off a bit.

She ducked behind the screen and reached for the pitcher to pour the water into the bowl, but as her fingers touched the marbled handle it lifted by itself and steadily poured water into the basin.

Excited to be clean she grabbed a soft rag from the rack that had also appeared and dipped it into the water. She moaned when she felt how warm the water was, the water should have been ice cold, but Belle couldn't have been happier that it wasn't.

She gently patted her face and scrapped off any dirt that was left over from her trip through the forest. She made sure to clean her hands too especially under the nails. The tips of her finger were clean and looked almost like a set of new hands. After drying off she still felt dirty underneath her clothes so she laid down a thick towel beneath her feet and unlaced her dress. She threw it over the top of the fold out screen that covered her if someone was to walk in. She was careful not to touch the dirty hem that hung down on her side of the screen.

She quickly scrubbed the warm water over her arms and up her legs and going underneath her shift to her chest and stomach. It felt so refreshing to get out of her dress and wash up.

She looked at her shift which was old and thread bare, now damp in a few places. If she would have known she was making a permanent stay away from home she would have dressed better and brought proper clothes. _I'm sure the wardrobe has something acceptable in it. It can't all be ballroom gowns. _She made her way out from behind the screen only too aware that she was in her underthings. She opened the wooden doors of the large wardrobe and dove into the fray. She was stabbed with buttons, wrapped with laces, and poked with baubles.

"There has got to be something!" She muttered. "Ah!"

In the very back behind hundreds of yards of fabric she touched something soft, still expensive, but appropriate for just a day inside. She pulled it out and felt her excitement wither. A lot.

"Well, this is…beautiful." She almost choked on the words with how untrue they were. It was orange. And puffy. And bright. Sadly upon a second look it was the only dress that wasn't ready to be worn for a ball. If she was truthful it wasn't even appropriate to wear in front of people—it was a disgrace to the eyes. Maybe it would look better on someone. "I doubt it, but I'm not going to wear one of those other ones." She hoped that if she had to have dresses made that they didn't look like this.

Belle threw it on the bed letting her get the full beauty of it. The bows were what made it uglier than it needed to be. But, it would have to do. She didn't want to put back on her dirty one if she didn't truly need to. Besides no one but Cogsworth and Lumiere would see it anyway.

She picked out a new chemise, matching slippers from the wardrobe and finished up behind the screen. After she was done she put on her new dress and took a look at herself in the mirror.

Belle laughed. She had never looked so utterly ridiculous. There was a huge bow that was hooked tight up to her chin and hung down to her chest. It flopped when she moved. She turned to get a back view and was greeted by a similar bow at the base of her spine that jutted out to make it look like she was wearing a pillow over her rump. She genuinely hoped that no one else had had to wear this dress before her.

She left her own things by the basin and wondered what to do for the rest of the time. She had until nightfall and it was only mid- afternoon.

There was a knock on the door.

She turned away from the mirror, her dress twirling with her as if trying to impress someone. This dress wasn't going to impress anyone.

She wondered who it was. It most likely wasn't Georgette or Mrs. Potts because they had already seen her. Lumiere, Mrs. Potts had told her was with the master or at least he had been. But, since she wasn't supposed to be having any company, she had assumed no one else would try and see her. She didn't think it was the master, she just didn't see him as the type to politely knock. She saw him as the type to thump, roar, and barge on in. So, no, she didn't think it was him.

"Who is it?" She asked.

"_It is me__, ma Cherie, Lumiere. The master approved of the idea of giving you a tour." _

Belle opened the door, of course there was no one standing there, but Lumiere's presence could be felt. Belle closed her door behind her when she stepped out into the hallway. She was tired of being cooped up in her room. She would take what she could get.

"That's fine, I have nothing else to do. But, why would the master approve of the idea? He was the one who commanded I stay in my room. Are you sure it's okay?"

"_Yes, well, he changed his mind. He does that- why, that is a delightful, uh," _His voice raised and she could hear the mirth in his voice, "_ensemble." _Cough, _"Very becoming."_

"Isn't it though? It may not be the most flattering clothing I've ever worn, but it's better than wearing my own dirty one. By the way, along the tour can you show me the washing room? I would like to clean myself and my dress?"

"_It is no problem. But, don't worry about the dress. A maid will be up to gather it and it will be done before we get back," _Belle was going to protest, not wanting to cause any extra work, "_Trust me it is not a problem. It is a reprieve of the monotony of the castle. Now just follow my torches, we are meeting Cogsworth in the gallery."_

Belle followed the torches down the stairs, wondering if there would be a run-in with the beast considering that it was daylight out and it was likely he was up. What would she do if she seen him? It had been rather awkward their last meeting. "Lumiere, is the master in the castle?"

"_No, he's actually not, he departed an hour ago into the forest. He often hunts when the animals become to troublesome. We've had an abnormal amount of wolves lately. They try to enter underneath the fortress wall at the gate."_

"How strange, why are they interested in the castle?"

"_I'm not sure, but, in my opinion it's the magic that draws them in."_

What a strange answer, but Belle couldn't refute it, for all she knew it was the power of the place that drew her and Philippe here. It was an incredible miracle that she had found the place out of all the different directions she could have taken along the way.

"I was also wondering," she continued as she was led through the foyer. "Since the master was so lenient with the tour, do you perhaps think that you could convince him to let me have my own clothes? From my own home? It may not seem like much, but it would mean a great deal to me.

The hallway before them had a curved ceiling that caused his answer to echo back. "_That, I'm not sure can happen. He is still adamant about the fact that you stay within the castle. I had asked about you seeing the courtyard, but he does not want you to go beyond these walls without his supervision. Maybe one day, but not yet."_

"Why is it so important that I stay here. I understand that we made a deal, my father's life for my captivity, but why is it so important?"

_"You'll have to ask him yourself. I can't tell you. Ah, Cogsworth!" _

She was about to ask why he couldn't tell her, but they had apparently reached the gallery. She'd picked up on the fact that she was wanted here by all the hints everyone was dropping whether they were accidental or not. But, one thing she knew for sure was that it all revolved around the beast. She hadn't asked as nearly many questions as she wanted to, but she supposed they would have to wait, until after she had seen the castle. Hopefully the tour would give her a better grip on where everything was. She was still a bit hazy on where exactly her room was.

All of the torches were ignited in the gallery, leaving the room in a fiery glow. Behind her was a set of tall doors that had been open when she had walked in, she heard them close behind her. She made a mental note of the color of the gallery walls, they were a light cream, whereas the walls surrounding her room where a dark green. Perhaps she'd be able to get a better hold on her whereabouts in the castle by focusing on the colors.

"_There you are!" _Sniff, "_I'd presumed you had gained hold of your senses and wasn't going to bring the girl."_

"_No, my senses are in hand, and _we _are going to give this lovely girl a look around. I already informed you that the master approved, so there should be no other complaint."_

_"I know that, but don't you think I have things to do, I do, in a way, run the castle."  
_

_"You run the castle as much as a spoon does. Not at all!"_

While Cogsworth flustered blubbers of words echoed, Belle took the time to glance around the room. Beautiful statues that were posed with urns or even lying down were spread throughout the room. The walls were covered in paintings of what she assumed were royalty. It was exquisite. She'd never seen such things before. The floor was marbled and slick beneath her feet, she smiled as she slide side to side. She remembered where she was and tried to curb the childish need to just run and slide across the floor to the other side of the room. She tuned back into the conversation instead of trying to humiliate herself.

"..._Well, you sir, are nothing, but dripping wax and hot air, so-"_

"I'm very sorry to interrupt, but I am so excited about seeing the castle." Belle hadn't been listening to their conversation and hadn't realized how out of hand it had gotten. They had been throwing puns and insults at each other all, it was to the point that Cogsworth sounded as if he was on the edge of proposing a duel at dawn. She would never get the tour then. "Cogsworth, you run the castle? Well, it's simply breathtaking. You must know everything about it in order for it to run so smoothly." She batted her eyelashes a bit at the air and hoped that they could control themselves for a little while longer. They were acting like little boys. It was adorable and she couldn't help, but smile. _  
_

Gasp, "_Well, you are right," _Belle could practically hear the glee in his voice, he was practically preening with pride. He was also rubbing the compliment in Lumiere's fire. "_You are a smart girl. I _am_ the one who takes care of the castle. No one else would do as good as job as me.__" _

"_Oh, please,"_ Lumiere's voice was amused and disgruntled all at the same time. He knew exactly what she was doing.

"_Lumiere, I do believe that the lady has spoken, tut tut, now, would you like to view the portraits, the portraits that only I know every historical event that they went through?"_

"I would love it. Thank you, Cogsworth."

Belle was hiding her laughter behind her hand, pretending it was a cough. It hadn't taken much to get Cogsworth over to her side. She glanced around at the paintings that started directly to her right and covered the whole wall all the way to the end. Decorative armor was set up between each painting. She came up to about shoulder height and when they passed each armor, the armor would give them an abrupt salute before returning to their stationary position. Parallel to the portraits on the other wall were large stained windows. The sunlight from outside shown through and caused the colors to dance across the armor. It was quite breathtaking to behold.

"_The paintings are in order of lineage, starting from the beginning of the wall, where you are standing, all the way to the end there, you see the lion statues? Those statues were made during the Renaissance period and it's rumored," _Cogsworth's voice turned into a false whisper. "_It's rumored that the artist had an illicit affair with the daughter of the king and the queen herself _and_ the queen's own mother. Quite insensible, isn't it? Now if you move down here we start to fade into the Baroque period, haha, as I like to say if it's not baroque don't fix it! Gasp, this artist was supposedly married his own sister, which wasn't uncommon you know, but then he married his own daughter. I had that same reaction when I heard. Sometimes, you'll find that the artist is more interesting than the piece itself. Here we come to King Earlsley, now he knew how to execute a party..."_

Belle was attentive to the history of the art. Cogsworth hadn't been lying, he really did know everything about, well, everything. After the gallery she was led back through the main floor which included the foyer, a study, a large room like the study more of a den of sorts. Then there was the Great Hall, which she had gone through when searching for her father, a bottlery—a storage room for wines, a very gold-plated throne room, and a chapel. There were many more along the way, but too many to actually name. She hadn't even been shown the servant's rooms on the main floor, but she felt as if she had walked miles just for that one floor. They went up to the second floor, where some of the guest rooms were.

The whole time Cogsworth was explaining more information than Belle was ever going to be able to memorize. Lumiere chimed in every now and then, but half the time she didn't think that he was listening. He likely already knew all of the information that had to deal with the castle. She had grown more comfortable with asking questions now that she knew that she wasn't going to be killed within a seconds notice, so she asked as many questions as she could which only seemed to delight Cogsworth more.

It was all starting to blur together, all the names, all the scandels and she was starting to loose focus. You could only see so much art before it felt like the new painting you were looking at looks exactly like the one you just seen. So, with all the information walking in one ear and out the other, she let herself enjoy the scenery.

When she looked out the next window, she realized they had been on the tour for hours. It was already starting to get dark. She knew it had been a while, but she had never dreamed that it had been that long. They hadn't even covered a fourth of the castle. It was bigger than she had even imagined.

"How many servants are there?"

"_Easily over a hundred._"

"That many? Well, it is rather large."

"_You haven't met any of the maids have you, if you met them you'd know where the numbers come from. Every room has to be dusted and changed."_

"But, I thought the castle didn't receive any guests?"

"_We don't, but why be unprepared. When you don't age in life, if you can call it life, it is boring, the spirits here need something to occupy them. Now then, this wallpaper came from…"_

Belle stopped in the hallway beside a tall vase. She suddenly remembered that Mrs. Potts had also told her that she would stop aging while she was here. She had been bored all day until Lumiere had come for her, how was she supposed to be entertained for a whole eternity in the castle. Even the servants who actually had things to do got bored to the lifestyle. How was she supposed to stay positive about the situation if she knew how it was likely going to turn out.

"_Cogsworth, you're boring the girl!"_

"_Why, I am not! You take that back!"_

"_No, look she stopped."_

Belle turned towards their voices when she realized they were talking about her. She felt bad for giving them the wrong idea. She had just been overwhelmed for a little bit, she should have stayed strong instead. It was just all sinking in at once how she was giving up everything she had ever known.

"_Belle, would you like to visit a different part of the castle. I fear you don't look too pleased with the guest rooms."_

"No, it's not that, I'm just homesick already. I was- am, really close to my father. I'm going to miss him and it's just now becoming apparent that my whole life is changing due to a promise that I didn't think through fully. At least my father is okay. Well, at least I think he is." She smoothed a hand over her hair making sure it was still in the braid that she had done that morning.

Lumiere's voice came closer. It was soothing and gentle, "_I know it's hard. We were once human, we know how hard it is to give up on the life that you knew."_

_"_I'm sorry, you must think me silly. My situation seems like child's play compared to what you have gone through."

"_There is always suffering. Just different kinds. Yours is just different from ours."_

_"Come along, girl. Is there anything that might help cheer you up a bit?" _Cogsworth's worried voice cut through her sadness. She shouldn't make her problem one of theirs.

Walking forward a bit, a little more cheerful than she had been. There was only one place that she could think of that she actually wanted to see. It was the one place that she was not allowed to go inside the castle.

"There is one place. Could I possibly see the West Wing?"

"_The East Wing? Oh, yes how could I forget to show you the majestic show that is the East wing, let's go!"_

"No, I said West Wing, why am I not allowed in it? Is there something dangerous?" She wasn't going to push the subject if they truly didn't want to take her, but she was at least going to ask some questions.

"_Well, depending on how you look at it," _Lumiere started before a frantic Cogsworth cut him off with a cough and a stutter.

"_No, no, no! There is nothing in the West Wing, nothing at all. Why would you think something was in the West Wing? Did Lumiere say something? Because really, reeaally there is nooo reason to enter the master's West Wing."_

"So the whole entire wing is the masters?"

"_No, I didn't say that."_

"Well, it was implied. If there is nothing dangerous than why shouldn't I enter?"

"_Because you shouldn't! Now, I do believe it's time for you to retire for the night."_

"_Cogsworth! She is merely curious!"_

"_I do not care, curiosity killed the master's cat!"_

"_That doesn't even make—"_

What could be in the West Wing that was so bad? She understood it was the masters, perhaps it wasn't so much as danger as a private courtesy. She still wanted to enter despite her head telling her that it wasn't the best idea she had ever had. She could just sneak in, check it out, and sneak out before anyone noticed, Lumiere had mentioned earlier that the master was out hunting, but that had been hours ago. Would he still be outside and away from his room?

She suddenly was struck by a very risky idea. An idea that wasn't the smartest, but definitely one of her most daring ones. "Actually," she started, "it is getting rather late and I do, um, have to sleep." She'd never been the best liar and she really didn't want Lumiere and Cogsworth to follow her.

"_Good, now just follow my voice," _Cogsworth tone was much happier and a bit gloated. He was proud in the fact that he had got her to go to her chamber, little did he know that he was in a way encouraging her.

"Thank you, Cogsworth. I very much appreciate it." She followed his voice up the nearest flight of stairs.

Suddenly Lumiere's voice was almost directly above her ear. "_Are you going to be going straight to bed then? You look a bit... mischievous, ma Cherie." _He said it low enough that Cogsworth wouldn't be able to hear.

"Of course, I'm just tired and would like to get some rest." She winced at how unconvincing she sounded. She also tripped on the next step which didn't help prove anything.

Lumiere chuckled, "_I'll try to keep the master away for as long as I can, but I'm not making any promises."_

"If you know what I want to do why are you helping me?" She was almost depressed he was helping her, she didn't want anyone else to be involved in case she got caught. The master would no doubt be upset, but Belle was curious and in truth had nothing to lose. But, the servants on the other hand, had a lot to lose.

"_Let's just say that I think the master needs a little bit of upheaval, just be careful when you are there. I should tell you about the one thing that you shouldn't touch at all, even if you are curious. Do not touch the r-"_

"_Are you two done plotting, tut, here's your room, dear girl. I hope we can continue the tour another time."__  
_

_"_Tomorrow?" She asked, already excited to start again.

_"I'll be counting on it. Now, Lumiere, let's go see what's happening in the kitchen, I hear quite a commotion."_ Cogsworth herded Lumiere away with a quick goodbye and it wasn't until later that night that Belle realized that Lumiere never finished telling her what not to touch in the West Wing.

She entered her room which was lit with numerous candles and the fireplace. She'd have to remember to thank Lumiere. She saw her own dress sprawled over her bed, Lumiere had been right, it was completely cleaned even of one stain on the bodice that had happened years ago. Another thing she'd have to thank someone for.

She would have changed back immediately if the situation had been different, but she didn't want to waste the time. It was known that the beast was gone and she was darn well going to take advantage of the situation. She just needed this one peek to quench her curiosity, after this she would never go back into the West Wing unless she was permitted. Just this one time.

She bit her lip as she picked up a two-pronged candelabra and lit it with the fire from the fireplace. The wicks caught immediately and she wondered briefly if Lumiere was going to be secretly accompanying her. She didn't dwell on it for long. She took off the shoes that she had on in case they made noise and left them by her bed. She cracked the door open, her finger nearly bone white on the handle. There was no one outside. That she could see. Who could really tell in a place that had invisible servants.

Belle clutched the candle holding it high so that the light would spread further on her eye level. She left the safety of her room and closed the door behind her. Taking small steps into the entrance to the west wing, she held her breath. She was excited. What was it that drew her to the wing? Earlier today she wouldn't have gone in, but during her time with Lumiere and Cogsworth she learned that she had nothing to lose. Maybe it was the magic or the tragedy that emitted from the West Wing. Perhaps she just had a knack for dangerous situations. She didn't dwell on it for long.

One more second of doubt floated through her mind as she took the last steps into the forbidden wing. She watched as the darkness enveloped the candle right before she allowed it to embrace her.

Belle didn't know it, but there was someone watching. Watching her take her final steps into the forbidden wing. Someone who wasn't Lumiere, wasn't Cogsworth, or even the beast himself. It was someone who was perhaps more dangerous than anyone Belle had yet to meet.

* * *

**Author's note: I'm sorry it took so long and I'm sorry this chapter is so long! I wanted to get through a lot of information and originally the chapter was about half the length and was still a little long, but when I went in to edit out bits, it somehow came out even longer! Thanks for the reviews, you guys are so nice and encouraging, I simply love reading any and all of what you guys have to say. I'm trying to write faster, because I have a really cool idea for a kind-of sequel to this story, plus I want to start other Disney stories and I want to please you guys as much as possible! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
**


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